Overlap
by dncnmndy
Summary: When an agent goes missing, the team finds themselves faced with limited information.  As they grow more desperate, they learn that the key to finding their agent may lie in a two year old cold case.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey all! This is an idea I've had banging around in my head for awhile. I'm hoping that you like reading it as much as I like writing it. If you feel like it, leave a review, they're my favorite : )**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds.**

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><p>"Spencer!" Jack cried, running out of Hotch's office and down the stairs, crossing the bullpen in record time before throwing his six year old self into Reid's arms. "Spencer!" he yelled again, right into Reid's face.<p>

Reid blinked in surprise and then smiled. "Hi Jack."

Jack grinned. For whatever reason, the "Reid Effect" didn't seem to affect him at all; Reid was one of his favorite people on the planet. At least, he had been for the last year or so ever since one of Reid's film canister rockets nailed Hotch in the forehead. Jack had seen the whole thing and found it hilarious and had immediately asked Reid to show him the trick, much to everyone else's bemusement.

Reid set Jack on his feet and grabbed his hand, leading him to his desk. "I've got a new one to show you." He whispered conspiratorially.

Jack smiled wider than he had in a long time and happily pulled Reid over to his desk, climbing in his chair as he had so many times before. Reid knelt down next to him and began talking softly.

Hotch watched the scene unfold from the doorway of his office, unaware of the smile on his face. Seeing Jack happy and smiling was his absolute favorite thing in the world, especially after he'd lost his mom. Seeing Jack act like the spunky six year old he was gave Hotch the feeling that things could eventually regain some semblance of being normal. Though he was as amused as everyone else by the odd pairing, he was happy for it.

"Whoa! How did you do that?" an ecstatic Jack yelled from Reid's desk. "Show me!" he commanded.

"A magician never reveals his secrets." Reid said, leaning in closer to Jack. "But I'll make an exception for you." And as he patiently explained every detail of the trick, Hotch could see only a flash of the red ball Reid was making disappear and reappear. Jack was completely focused on Reid, trying to learn every aspect of the trick, and he didn't hear Morgan sneak up behind him.

"What are you doing here little man?" Morgan asked, ruffling Jack's hair.

"I'm learning magic." He said seriously, pointing to the ball sitting on Reid's desk.

"Magic, huh?" Morgan teased. "Well, let's see you get out of this one!" He picked Jack up and spun him around, switching his grip so he was holding his ankle. Jack dangled from Morgan's right hand while his left incessantly tickled Jack's stomach. Jack squirmed and twisted but couldn't get free.

"Put me down right now." He ordered, finally giving up and crossing his arms, a very Hotch-like expression on his face even though the hint of a smile was still there.

Morgan complied, setting Jack gently on his feet and tousling his hair. "You got it kid." Morgan said. "Better get back to your magic." He added, walking to his desk and settling in for what was certainly going to be a long night of paperwork.

Reid leaned in close to Jack. "Ready for the next trick?"

Jack nodded excitedly.

"Okay. This one is called 'Hit Derek in the head with the little red ball'. Ready?"

Jack snickered and nodded, watching as Reid picked up the ball and, with surprising accuracy, lobbed it at the back of Morgan's head, hitting it with a soft thunk and bouncing to the floor. The sound of Jack's giddy laughter greeted Garcia and Prentiss as they walked in the door.

"What's going on here?" Prentiss asked, eyebrows raised.

"Magic!" Jack cried, running to give her a hug.

"Target practice." Morgan specified, rubbing the back of his head.

Prentiss laughed. "Please. With your hard head, I'm surprised you felt that at all." She teased.

"Hey, don't be making fun of my boy's head." Garcia chided affectionately. She grabbed Jack's hand and walked him back to Reid's desk, pulling a candy bar out from behind her back. "Dinner is served!" She announced.

Jack's smile faltered. "I haven't had dinner yet. I don't think my daddy will let me…" He raised his head to Hotch's office, catching his dad's eye.

"Oh go on. Get corrupted. Get cavities. Eat dessert first." Hotch said in an exasperated tone. He softened it with a wink that let Jack know he was only joking. Jack grinned.

"You're the best daddy in the world!" he yelled, grabbing the candy bar out of Garcia's hand, just as JJ was leaving her office for the night.

"Remind me to never let you near Henry." She joked, hitching her bag up higher on her shoulder.

"Henry loves me Jayje. You couldn't keep us apart if you tried." Penelope joked back.

"JJ! Where is Henry? Is he here? Can I hold him?" Jack pleaded; his mouth still full of chocolate.

JJ laughed. "He's not here Jack, but I'll bring him in sometime so you guys can play, okay?"

"Yay!" Jack yelled, stuffing the rest of his candy bar in his mouth.

Everyone in the bullpen laughed at the glee-filled expression on his face, distorted by the mounds of chocolate he had in his mouth. Hotch was so intent that he didn't even hear Rossi approach.

"I can't tell who's having more fun down there," he joked. "Jack or the rest of them."

Hotch smiled. "I think it's a tie."

"How's he doing Aaron?"

"Things are getting better. Kind of. I found him watching home videos of Haley again yesterday. He'd fallen asleep watching them."

"It's part of the healing process. You know that."

"I do. I know that. I just wish I knew how to fix it all for him." Hotch sighed. It was true. He wanted that more than anything; he wanted to be able to bring Haley back, if only for Jack's sake. For Jack's sake, and his own.

"It'll take time. You're doing everything right." Rossi assured him. "And that's got to be a good sign." He laughed and indicated the goings-on in the bullpen below.

Hotch laughed too, as Jack had just thrown the ball at Morgan's head, imitating Reid. The ball bounced off Morgan's forehead and Jack laughed and ran as Morgan sprinted toward him. He ran behind Emily, who quickly linked elbows with JJ and Garcia on either side of her, shielding Jack.

"Don't even think about it." JJ told Morgan.

"You're not going to get past us hunksicle." Garcia said.

Jack peeked out from behind Garcia's legs. "What's a hunkysuckle?" he asked.

And that was too much for Hotch, who immediately burst into laughter that was louder than anyone thought he was capable of.

"Thanks for enriching my son's vocabulary Garcia." he said loud enough for her to hear. "Thanks a lot."

That Sunday, Hotch found himself standing next to Rossi on a soccer field cheering on the small boys running up and down aimlessly. He'd gotten roped into coaching Jack's soccer team for the season and had in turn convinced Rossi to help him. After a few quips about the Italian soccer team, Rossi was in.

Hotch watched his son with pride, once again reveling in the fact that we was a mostly well-adjusted kid. The ball headed his way and he kicked it just a little too far in front of him. He put on a burst of speed that made his short little legs look like a blur from the sidelines. He caught up to the ball and kicked it again sending it streaking down the field in a blur of black and white. Hotch watched as a boy on the opposing team tripped over the ball headed his way; the kid landed flat on his back as the rest of the boys took off. Jack, who had been leading the pack that was running to catch up to the ball, stopped and turned around. He helped the boy off the ground and patted him on his back before they both ran off toward the ball side by side.

Rossi shook his head. "That is quite some kid you've got there Aaron."

Hotch nodded. "I know."

"Why don't you take a late morning tomorrow? Spend some quality time with him."

"Is that your subtle way of telling me that I don't spend enough time with my son?"

"No, that's my way of telling you that you should take a late morning and spend some quality time with your son." Rossi repeated.

Hotch smiled. As out of character as it was, the idea was tempting.

As he tucked Jack into bed that night Hotch couldn't resist asking his son about the game.

"Jack, I'm really proud of what you did at the game today."

"But I didn't score anything." Jack answered.

Hotch smiled. "I'm not talking about that buddy. I'm talking about when you helped that boy up off the ground. You could have scored then, but you decided to help him instead."

Jack regarded his father seriously. "I wanted to be like you Daddy. You always help people. I want to help people too."

Hotch ruffled Jack's hair. "I'm glad to hear that buddy. Okay, time for sleep." He kissed Jack's forehead as the child settled into bed.

"Night Daddy."

"Goodnight Jack."

Hotch was halfway to the door when he heard Jack's tentative voice. "Daddy?"

Hotch turned.

"Can I say good night to Mommy?"

"Of course you can buddy. You can talk to Mom anytime you want."

Jack smiled. "Goodnight Mommy. I love you." He looked at Hotch. "I love you too Daddy."

"And I love you too Jack." Hotch flipped the light switch so that Jack's bedroom was illuminated only by the soft glow of his night light. He paused in the doorway and regarded the small sleeping form of his son. For a fleeting moment the thought crossed his mind that he didn't know what he would do if he ever lost him. He was so lost in thought that he didn't sense the intruder walk softly up behind him. By the time he realized someone was behind him, the intruder had hit him on the side of the head and Hotch fell to the floor.


	2. Chapter 2

**So, I know these chapters are short to start out with, but I promise they'll get longer; hope you're enjoying this!**

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><p>"All I'm saying is that Vonnegut has nothing on Kesey." Reid argued in the elevator.<p>

"Seriously?" Morgan asked incredulously. "I would have thought you'd be all over Vonnegut's sci-fi stuff."

"Don't get me wrong, Vonnegut is great but Kesey's social satire concerning the horrors of the post World War Two mental institutions and the uses of electro-shock therapy to try and fix the mind were basically unheard of at the time he was writing this."

"Oh, and Slaughterhouse Five fit right into the norm, did it?" Emily countered.

Reid held up his hands defensively. "All I'm saying is that the greater the risk an author takes the more likely his books are to gain momentum as time goes on. Statistically-"

Emily clamped a hand over his mouth. "Not today Dr. Reid. Two against one and you're not going to convince us."

They stepped out of the elevator at the same time Rossi came out of the stairwell.

"Feeling spry this morning?" Morgan asked him.

"I just thought a little exercise would do me good. You ought to try it sometime. You're looking a little weak." Rossi nodded at him.

Morgan laughed. "You up for a little sparring at the gym later? We'll see who's feeling weak."

"Oh now that I would pay to see." Emily said.

"My money's on Rossi." Reid informed Morgan helpfully.

"What are you saying genius? Are you turning on me?" Morgan feigned betrayal.

"I'm just saying that I would put my money on Rossi's considerably greater experience and mental capacity than your brawn." Reid dug himself in further.

"Kid, if mental capacity was all it took to beat me, even you could do it."

Their laughter was interrupted as they saw JJ approaching. "Has anyone seen Hotch?" she asked.

"He's not here?" Emily inquired, instinctively glancing in the direction of his office.

"I've been here since six and he hasn't come in." JJ responded.

"Did you try calling him?" Reid asked. He couldn't go through this again, almost losing Hotch. He tried to keep the anxiety out of his voice but didn't do very well.

"Yeah, his phone goes straight to voicemail." JJ shook her head.

"I wouldn't worry just yet. Maybe he's just taking a late morning and spending some time with Jack." Rossi said calmly.

"When was the last time that happened?" Morgan asked.

"Well, I may have suggested that it would be a good idea for him to take some time away. Give him a few hours." Rossi said before heading to his office. The others followed suit and started in on what was going to be a long day of paperwork. Morgan and Emily were so focused that they didn't immediately notice Reid's furtive glances at the clock every few minutes. Finally he couldn't stand it any longer. He grabbed his empty coffee mug and headed to the break room. He filled his cup halfway and dumped in enough sugar to make a batch of cookies. He backed out of the room, keeping his eyes on Morgan and Emily, and headed for Garcia's office.

"Enter if you dare." Her cheerful voice greeted him after he knocked. He stepped inside but Garcia didn't even look at him; her fingers were flying over the keyboard.

"Hotch's phone is in his apartment." She told him before he could ask anything.

Reid was dumbfounded. "That's not why I came in here." Reid lied. "And how did you know it was me?"

"Because I can smell that sugary concoction you call coffee from a mile away. And you say _I_ need to cut back on the sugar. Hmph."

"Why did you think I wanted you to trace Hotch's phone?"

"Because your computer activity isn't even half of what Emily and Cocoa Puff have been putting in this morning."

Reid choked on his coffee. "Cocoa Puff?"

"I'm having a hard time coming up with new names. Chocolate Hunk of Thunder just doesn't have the same ring it used to." She sighed. "Anyway, stop worrying."

"I can't." Reid said softly. "The last time we weren't worried about Hotch, Foyet had gotten to him. I don't want that to happen again." He confided.

Garcia offered a sympathetic look. "Brainy, Hotch can take care of himself. But if it makes you feel better, I'll keep an eye on his cell phone and call you if anything seems off, okay?" She grabbed his hand and squeezed.

Reid smiled but his eyes were still troubled. "Thanks Garcia."

"You're welcome, my fine frittered cupcake."

Reid shook his head as he left her office. Cocoa Puff and frittered cupcake. What a pair.

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><p>When Hotch woke up he didn't immediately know that anything was wrong. His first thought was that he really needed to get a new mattress; this one was getting a little hard. The second thing he noticed was the pain radiating from the side of his head. It wasn't until he rolled over onto his back that he realized just how abnormal things were. He came to several disturbing conclusions all at once, his head clearing almost immediately.<p>

First, his hands were cuffed behind his back. He could feel the cool metal biting into his wrists. Second, he wasn't lying on his old mattress but rather on a hard surface, probably a floor. If he had to hazard a guess, he would say that it was made of stone. He couldn't be sure, and that led him to his third conclusion: he was blindfolded. As his panic levels increased, he forced himself to stay still, half hoping to hear the sound of Jack moving around beside him. The other half of him hoped that Jack wasn't wherever he was right now. He rolled his head on his neck, trying to get out of the gag that was secured tightly in place but it was a no-go. He tried to call Jack's name but the sound came out so muffled that he wasn't even sure someone standing right next to him could have understood what he said.

Hotch rolled over onto his side and pressed the aching side of his head into the cool stone floor. Bits and pieces of profiles were running through his head. Judging by the throbbing sensation he felt in his head and the fact that he kidnapper had managed to somehow transport Hotch from the floor of Jack's bedroom to wherever he was now meant that his attacker was physically strong. White victims usually meant a white Unsub. This was premeditated and suggested a high level of organization and intelligence. That was all he had. His mind kept flickering back to Jack, and Hotch hoped with everything he had that Jack was still at home asleep in his own bed. He realized that he had no idea what time it was. With any luck it was late enough that his team would have noticed that something was wrong. He figured they wouldn't take a chance after what had happened last time.

He let his thoughts drift to his team. They'd been through so much together, so many threats and so many Unsubs. He had the utmost confidence in them; they could get the job done anywhere and anytime. But that didn't mean he wasn't worried about them. They were dealing with Emily's return and his betrayal. Thankfully things were beginning to get back to normal, or at least they seemed to be. Really though, it wasn't like they had much choice. The job demanded that they trust each other implicitly and have each other's backs no matter what their personal feelings were. As unwilling as they'd been at first, especially Reid and Morgan, each case they'd worked on had forced them to rebuild and regain some of that trust. He knew that when it came down to the wire he could count on his team to come through. They would come through for him now. He had no doubt.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey all! Thanks to you for reading, and an extra special thanks to those that reviewed. Reviews are awesome, because they tell me if you love it/hate it/have an idea on where to take it. So please don't be afraid to let me know your thoughts : ) **

**Also, since I'm pretty sure I forgot to put it on the first chapter, here's my disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds. I think that takes care of things, so read on and let me know what you think!**

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><p>Reid's clock checking was becoming infectious. It had been another two hours after he'd asked Garcia to trace Hotch's cell phone. Hotch still hadn't come into the office and even Rossi found himself glancing toward the door to the bullpen every few minutes. Without fail either Reid's, Emily's, or Morgan's heads were turned away from their desks and toward the clock. Rossi didn't begrudge Hotch any time with his son but Rossi really wished the younger agent would at least call and check in.<p>

He couldn't take it anymore. He picked up his phone and dialed Garcia's extension.

"No, I haven't heard from Hotch," she answered exasperatedly.

"How did you know what I was going to ask?"

"My phone has been ringing every three minutes for the last hour. What took you so long?"

"Garcia, can you-"

"Run a trace on Hotch's cell phone? I already did. It's in his apartment, where it's been since Reid asked me to do the same thing two hours ago."

"Garcia, call Jack's school and see if Hotch called him in absent for the day."

"He didn't. I just got off the phone with them. They've called and left messages for him as a part of their absence verification policies. They haven't been able to get a hold of him either."

"Okay. Thanks Garcia."

"Sir – Hotch is okay, right?"

"I'll get back to you." Rossi answered, disconnecting the call.

He stood up and grabbed his gun out of the top drawer of his desk.

"Let's go," he called to the agents in the bullpen as he stepped out of his office. They didn't need telling twice. Reid was actually halfway to the elevator before Rossi had even made it down the stairs.

"What's new?" Morgan asked.

"Jack didn't show up at school today. They haven't been able to reach Hotch either. His phone still shows that he's at his apartment."

"What are the odds that he took Jack out for the day and left his phone there?" Emily asked knowingly. She was interrupted by the shrill ringing of her phone.

She glanced at the caller ID and answered it quickly.

"Jessica, is everything okay?" She paused, listening to the woman on the other end of the line. Even though Rossi was four feet away he could hear the woman's hysterical voice coming through the phone. This couldn't be good. "Okay, stay there, we're on our way." She hung up and looked at her colleagues. "Jessica is at Hotch's apartment. She showed up expecting to take care of Jack but there wasn't any answer at the door. She let herself in but neither Hotch nor Jack was there." She paused to take a breath and Reid jumped in.

"Hotch wouldn't have forgotten to call her if he was taking Jack for the day," he said hurriedly.

"There's more. She found blood in the doorway to Jack's bedroom. That's when she called me."

"Why you?" Morgan asked, half joking. He wasn't blind.

"I'm the first one on her speed dial." Emily said plainly, choosing to ignore Morgan's hidden question.

Reid was jabbing the elevator button repeatedly. "Screw this," he muttered, bolting for the stairs. Emily, Morgan, and JJ followed suit and so did Rossi, after a moment's hesitation. He tried to limit his exercise to one time a day.

"Since when does Reid use the phrase 'screw this'?" Emily asked.

"Around the same time he started using the expression 'I will crush you.'" Morgan answered.

They reached the garage in record time and piled into an SUV with Morgan at the wheel.

They arrived at Hotch's building and raced up the stairs in lieu of waiting for the elevator. Rossi was breathing hard by the time they made it to Hotch's floor.

"Maybe you would work out more." Morgan teased halfheartedly.

They met Jessica in the living room of the apartment; the poor woman was practically hysterical. She ran to Emily as soon as she saw her.

"Emily, have you heard from Aaron?" she asked desperately.

Emily shook her head. "Jessica, walk me through what happened when you got here."

Jessica took a deep breath and tried to steady herself. "Aaron called me last night and said he was going to keep Jack out of school for a few hours. I decided to come by anyway and cook some dinners to put in the freezer. You know he's useless in the kitchen," she said to Emily. Morgan and Rossi shared a glance. That was an interesting piece of news.

"Then what happened?" Emily tried to get the woman back on track, refusing to meet anyone else's eye. Now was not the time to get into this.

"Aaron didn't answer, so I figured he and Jack had already left. I went to unlock the door but it was already open. Aaron would never do that, not after-" she gulped and went on. "I didn't think anything was wrong until I saw Jack's backpack on the table." She pointed toward the kitchen. "I went to Jack's room and that's when I saw the blood." She looked up desperately. "Emily, this can't be happening again. It just can't," she cried.

"We'll find them." Emily promised. "Stay here, we're going to go look around."

They split up and cleared the apartment within minutes. Reid and Emily took Jack's room. Other than the small bloodstain in the entryway there were no signs of a struggle. JJ, Rossi and Morgan looked around Hotch's room but nothing looked out of place there either. They congregated back in the living room but huddled away from Jessica.

"There's not enough blood to indicate that someone was killed here. The human body has to lose a significant amount of blood before their vital organs will shut down completely and there's not enough on the floor to indicate that anyone bled out here. Of course that doesn't mean that less intrusive methods were used."

"Thanks for that, Doctor." Rossi told him.

"Sorry. Coping mechanism." Reid admitted.

"But why kill Hotch and Jack and then take the dead bodies?" Morgan asked. "This looks more like a kidnapping to me."

"I agree. The blood could have come from Hotch being knocked unconscious." Emily posited.

"Okay, so who would want to take Hotch and Jack?" JJ asked.

And that was the question that stumped them all.

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><p>Hotch's thoughts were yanked back to the present when he heard a door opening. Soft footsteps and the sound of it closing followed. He, utterly defenseless, tried to sit up in an attempt to look less pitiful. This action brought to light a new revelation: there was a thick chain wrapped around his neck that he guessed was attached to the wall behind him. He could feel a padlock against banging against his shoulder when he moved.<p>

He jumped when he felt hands suddenly touching his arms but noted that they were softer than he'd expected and relatively unthreatening. The hands gripped his upper arms and helped him sit up. They probed softly around the side of his head and he held in the wince that threatened to escape. The hands traveled to the back of his head and he felt them pulling at the knotted gag at the base of his neck. He felt it loosen and sucked in a deep breath gratefully before it was removed completely. He tried to swallow but found that his mouth and throat were too dry to do anything of the sort and he ended up having a coughing fit. The hands left his head for a second before he felt a plastic bottle being lifted to his lips. He turned his head away; as desperate as he was for water he wasn't about to drink an unknown substance while being held captive.

He heard a sigh and the hands were back, this time working at the knot on his blindfold. This was either very good or very, very bad. As the blindfold was pulled away he worked to focus on the scene in front of him. There wasn't much light in the room so he had to strain to see anything. Slowly, he made out the figure that had settled in front of him, putting the blindfold next to the gag on the ground.

It was a young woman, in her late twenties if he had to guess. Her rumpled light hair fell past her thin shoulders and if he wasn't mistaken, she was looking at him with a mixture of sympathy and concern. This didn't fit his profile at all.

"It's not drugged," she told him softly.

"What's not?" he croaked.

"The water. It's not drugged."

"Forgive me if I don't take your word for it." He tried to swallow and get some moisture into his mouth.

She cracked open a new bottle of water and took a long gulp herself. She swallowed, waited a beat, and held the water toward him again. She slowly raised it to his lips and this time he didn't turn his head away. He took two small sips and forced himself not to drink the whole thing.

"Where's my son?" he demanded. His voice was stronger now, and angry.

"Jack's fine. He's sleeping," she told him. She knew Jack's name.

"Let me see him."

"I can't do that."

"Why not?" he was struggling to treat this like any other negotiation, forcing himself to put aside any personal feelings, as difficult as that was.

His captor didn't answer. "Can I look at your head?" she asked instead.

"I want to see my son." Hotch refused to give up.

"He's sleeping. You took a hard blow to the head. Let me at least bandage it for you."

"Is Jack okay?" he pressed on.

She offered a half smile. "He's fine. Just sleeping."

"What time is it?"

"Two."

"Night or day?"

"Two in the morning. So I guess it depends on your definitions of night and day. Can I please take a look at your head now?" She gestured toward the gauze and the hydrogen peroxide on the tray next to her.

She leaned forward to shift her weight and Hotch noted that she was wearing a black silk nightgown and matching robe. Between that and the state of her hair, it was obvious that she'd just been woken up. She hadn't been involved in the actual kidnapping. Hotch finally nodded. Something about this woman struck him as being a low threat. He didn't think that she wanted to hurt him, or Jack.

She sterilized the wound and wiped away the dried blood before covering the wound with a gauze bandage.

"Where am I?" Hotch asked while she worked.

"I can't tell you that." Her fingers worked expertly on his head.

"Why am I here?"

"I can't answer that either."

"Can't or won't?"

She looked him in the eye. "Can't." She sat back on her heels. "I don't think you have a concussion."

"I don't."

"How do you know?"

"I've had concussions before. I don't have one now." Hotch answered. His mouth was dry again and his eyes drifted to the water bottle on the floor.

The woman saw this and lifted the bottle to his lips again. He drank more this time, having felt no side effects after the first time around.

"Who are you?" he asked her.

"My name is Kayla," she answered and offered no more information than that.

"Why are you doing this? What do you want?" Hotch asked her.

She gathered the medical supplies, avoiding Hotch's glare.

"Let me see my son," he demanded uselessly as she stood to leave.

She walked across the room where he could see the outline of a door but no doorknob. She knocked once and looked over her shoulder at Hotch.

"I'm sorry." She whispered before the door swung open. A hulking man entered the room and gripped her upper arm, steering her out and slamming the door behind them, ignoring Hotch completely.

Hotch leaned his head back against the wall and ran his mind over everything he'd just learned. The room he was in seemed to be entirely built of stone and there were no windows that he could see. He knew he was dealing with at least one Unsub, probably more judging by the amount of planning that had gone into this.

His mind drifted to Kayla. She didn't seem to want to hurt him and the way she talked about Jack made him think she didn't want to hurt him either. She hadn't answered any of his questions and at the time he'd taken that to mean that she was in on it. Now he was wondering if she hadn't answered because she didn't _know_ the answers to his questions. It was possible that he and Jack weren't the only people being held here against their will.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey everyone! I hope you're enjoying the story so far. If you are (or aren't), let me know by leaving a review. I can't make this better without knowing your thoughts! Also, as I'm writing this, I'm toying with the idea of changing the rating. A few scenes in the next couple of chapters may be rough, so just be warned. Again, let me know what you think, and enjoy!**

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><p>The team had congregated back at the BAU and Garcia was now fielding half a dozen requests as the agents let their streams of consciousness take hold.<p>

"Are there cameras anywhere around his building?" Morgan asked. "Red light cameras, that kind of thing?" He was the least familiar with Hotch's home and knew it.

"I didn't see any. Garcia, call the alarm company and see when it was deactivated last night. Maybe that will give us a timeline." JJ told her.

"I'm on it." She muttered; her fingers were mere blurs on the keyboard.

"Maybe this was just about Jack, and Hotch got in the way." Rossi suggested.

"But why not just leave Hotch there? Why take him too?" Morgan asked.

Rossi shrugged. "Garcia, check out known sex offenders within a forty mile radius. Go big."

Garcia snapped. "Okay, friends, you know I love you, and you know I love Hotch, and you know I love Jack like he's my very own puppy, but I am only one person. And you all tossing suggestions and ideas around is great but I can't work that fast. So, give me your top three for me to work on first and we'll go from there." A tear of frustration slid down her cheek and she batted it away angrily. Why was she the only person who ever got frustrated? Or ever showed emotion period?

"Okay, Mama, okay. Baby Girl, you're doing fine." Morgan soothed.

Garcia took a breath and steadied her hands over the keyboard. "Okay. Top three. Go."

"Sex offenders first." Emily decided. "How many?"

"Well this is disturbing. Sixteen in a forty mile radius."

"How many involved children?"

"Six. But it looks like Jack doesn't fit any of their victim types. Girl, girl, baby, who could do that to a baby? And the others are boys, but older than Jack."

"Scratch that for now." Reid told her. "It's highly unlikely that a pedophile will change his or her victim type.

"Okay, next?"

"Go ahead and check the alarm company." Rossi told her.

The room was silent, save for the clacking of the keys on the keyboard. "Okay. The alarm was disarmed last night at five thirty."

"After the soccer game." Rossi nodded.

"And it was re-armed at five thirty-two."

"He got inside and turned it back on." Emily said; she'd actually watched him do this before.

"It wasn't turned off or on for the rest of the night…hang on. It looks like the alarm company issued an alert last night that some of their lines had been damaged in a vandalism incident and the lines weren't functioning properly.

"When was this?" Emily asked.

"The alert when out at ten fifteen last night."

"Is there a way to tell which lines were affected?" she pressed.

"Of course there is Warrior Prentiss." Garcia pulled up a map of the general vicinity of Hotch's apartment. "The blue lights are houses that were affected by the vandalism."

"That was no random vandalism." JJ posited. The blue lights were all clustered in one area; Hotch's house was right in the middle of it all.

"Garcia, where did the company say the lines were tampered with?" Reid asked.

"Here." Garcia indicated an area less than a mile from Hotch's house. That's where the lines for this grid are run."

"Guys, that's less than a mile from Hotch's house. The odds of two criminal events occurring this closely together chronologically are basically astronomical." Reid spoke quickly.

"What, you don't have the exact odds?" Morgan asked.

"I do, but I don't see why that would be relevant." Reid retorted.

"Let's work under the assumption that the Unsub that took Hotch and Jack also damaged the alarm lines. This was premeditated." Rossi concluded.

"Now the question is, is this personal?" Emily asked. "Garcia, can you run down a list of similar crimes in the past year? Fathers and sons both kidnapped in the middle of the night?"

Garcia stared intently at her computer screen. "Nothing."

"Look for fathers and sons that were murdered. And expand it to the last five years." Rossi told her, crossing the bridge that everyone else refused to. Hotch and Jack couldn't be dead.

Garcia looked at him blankly. "Sir, you don't think-" her voice wavered.

Rossi tried to be gentle. "Just look it up, Garcia." JJ shot him a look. Evidently not gentle enough.

Garcia breathed a sigh of relief. "Nothing. There's nothing fitting this method of operation in the entire state in the last five years." She smiled reflexively but sobered when she looked around the table. "Is that not a good thing?"

"It just means that whoever took Hotch and Jack targeted them specifically." JJ said.

"Well, that has to say something, right? About who did this?"

"It does. But it also means we have no precedent to work from. Our profile is going to be more difficult to come by." Rossi told her.

"But you guys can do it, right? You'll find them?" her resolve wavered again.

Morgan grabbed her hand. "You bet we will. We're going to find the son of a bitch that took them and we're going to bring them home."

* * *

><p>Hotch didn't know how much time had passed; he couldn't see his watch since his wrists were cuffed behind his back. He'd spent however long it was listening for any sound that would indicate that Jack was here, hurt or otherwise. He also took stock of his surroundings, not that there was much to take note of. The floor was made of stone and the walls appeared to be too. There were no windows but if he looked closely he thought he could see a single light bulb dangling from a string on the ceiling. The whole room looked to him like it was part of an unfinished basement; cold and unfriendly. He didn't think he was in a basement though; when Kayla had left through the door earlier he hadn't heard the sounds of her climbing stairs.<p>

Where was Jack? That was the big question that kept popping into his head every time he tried to get a profile started. Until he knew his son was safe, he knew he'd be useless. He forced his mind to stop racing and listen on the sounds of his surroundings. The silence was deafening and it made him hyperaware of his own breathing. He found himself counting his breaths, which was completely unhelpful.

He forced himself to stay still when the door to his dungeon swung open again. He looked at it hopefully and prayed that it would be Jack bounding through there unharmed while at the same time wishing that it wasn't.

Three men came through the door, including the one Hotch had seen earlier. This wasn't good. With three Unsubs, Hotch would be fighting a mob mentality all the way. When one of them got violent, all of them would follow suit.

One of the men appeared to be significantly older than the other two and as Hotch inspected them more closely he could see some common facial characteristics between them. It was the eyes that got him though; all three pairs were the same. And then he was flashing back to a time over a year prior when those same eyes were staring at him from behind a blank white mask, then hovering over him has he felt the smooth blade of a knife, sticky with his own blood, being thrust into him again and again, and then finally, staring up at him angrily even though the life was draining out of them. The eyes were George Foyet's and they were staring him down again. Three times. Hotch was fairly certain that he was being glared at by George Foyet's surviving family.

He decided to play ignorant. "Where's my son?" he asked.

They sneered at him collectively, one of them even snorted.

"You don't get to ask the questions, _Aaron_." The older man spoke. His hair was graying but he was slender and trim, obviously dedicated to the gym. His pale complexion and steely eyes were reminiscent of George's. The anger there was unmistakable. But it wasn't just anger; loathing and mutiny brewed underneath the surface as well.

"Relax, man. We haven't done anything to him." One of the others spoke mockingly, poking fun at his concern. He was very tall, over six feet. He too was brawny and Hotch privately hoped that he wouldn't be the one conducting the physical torture. Oh yes, he knew he was going to be tortured. That's why they'd brought him here, to break him down and to watch him lose. Of that much, he had no doubt.

"Yet." The third man, the one who had come into the room earlier spoke now and Hotch had a better chance to look at him. He was the largest of the three men in the room and he resembled his late brother George the most of the three. His voice was surprisingly soft spoken though and Hotch struggled to profile the group as a whole. Group dynamics would be invaluable to understand right now.

"Where is he?" Hotch asked again. The third man was on him in a flash and Hotch went down, his cheek throbbing. He felt the guy's foot connect with his ribs and was helpless against the volley of blows.

"Gabe, that's enough!" the father yelled. He and Gabe's brother pulled him off of Hotch and held him back a few feet away.

Hotch breathed heavily despite the pain in his ribs as he righted himself and he found himself staring into Foyet Sr.'s eyes. The man offered a cruel, mirthless grin before he spoke.

"Do you know why you're here_ Aaron_?" He sneered.

"Revenge." Hotch told him.

He smiled. "That's right!" he sounded amused. "You killed my son." He bent down close to Hotch's face so that they were practically nose to nose. "You beat him to death. Tell me, how did that feel for you? What was it like?"

"George left me no choice." Hotch regarded him sternly. "He killed my ex-wife and dozens of other people. He was going to kill my son."

"So your solution was to kill someone else's son?" he screamed. "Is that how you take care of things Agent Hotchner? You kill anything that stands in your way?"

Hotch chose to stay quiet. He could feel the situation escalating and had no desire to provoke anyone further; not while he didn't know where Jack was. He could see the two brothers standing off to the side looking mutinous and he didn't know how long their self-control would hold out.

Foyet leaned in even closer so that he could whisper directly into Hotch's ear. "Do you know what it feels like to be beaten to death, Agent Hotchner? _Hotch_? Hmm?" He grabbed Hotch's neck and squeezed the pressure points there. "You're going to find out." He hissed. "But I'm not going to let you get off that easily." He released his hold on Hotch's neck and backed up slowly, his eyes locked on Hotch's face. "Who knows?" he raised his arms in a gesture of inquiry. "Maybe you'll even get to find out what it's like to lose a son. Maybe, just maybe, you'll find out what it's like to watch your son get beaten until he stops breathing. What do you think, _Aaron_, does that sound like fun?"

"Don't hurt my son." Hotch forced himself to speak evenly. "He's innocent in all of this. George wasn't." he strived to make Foyet see the differences between George and Jack. "He's six." Hotch said firmly.

"We'll see." Foyet ended the conversation and backed toward the door.

Gabe and his brother were still staring at Hotch and it took some prodding from their father to get them out of the room.

As the door slammed shut, Hotch rested his head against the wall behind him and pulled helplessly at the cuffs binding him. He was desperate to get to Jack, to reassure himself that his son was safe, at least for the time being. Visions of his son calling out for him as he was pummeled by the behemoths that had just left the room haunted him and he couldn't get them out of his head no matter how hard he tried. It had been bad enough to hear that Jack was being bullied at school but Jack had figured that one out for himself. There was no way Jack could invite these men over for a play date and cookies and make everything right.

Those thoughts haunted him as he drifted into a light, restless sleep as, unbeknownst to him, Jack was sitting on a trundle bed watching cartoons and doing a puzzle with Kayla, having woken up a half hour earlier. He'd been frightened but had calmed down more quickly than Kayla had expected. What surprised her most was that he didn't seem to be afraid of her.

"When can I see my daddy?" he asked softly.

"I don't know Jack. Probably soon."

The boy went back to doing his puzzle and Kayla couldn't help but pry. "Do you and your dad get along Jack?

He nodded enthusiastically. "He's the best daddy ever!"

Kayla laughed. "I bet he is." She paused. "What about your mom?"

His eyes were sad as he put down the puzzle piece he'd been trying to fit. "Mommy's in heaven."

"Oh Jack, I'm sorry." And she was; she honestly hadn't known. "Was she sick?"

He shook his head. "No, a bad guy got her."

"Why would a bad guy come after your mom sweetie?" she rubbed his head softly.

"Because Daddy was trying to catch him. Daddy's a police officer. FBI agent." He reported.

"Really?" Again, she hadn't known. She didn't know much of anything, apparently.

Jack nodded. "George came to our house. I had to hide like I was working the case but he hurt Mommy."

Kayla only understood about half of what he said. George. George hurt my mommy. Oh my God. That was it, that was the connection she'd been missing. Gabe's brother had killed Jack's mom. "I'm sorry Jack." She held back her tears for his sake.

"That's okay." He promised her, confused as to why she had anything to be sorry about. "But Daddy got the bad guy. He got him and Emily helped. Everyone helped him get the bad guy."

"Jack, who's Emily?"

"She's my friend! She works with Daddy. Sometimes she brings me pancakes." He spoke the way a six year old mind would think. "We like to play games. And she smells good, kind of like Mommy." Jack leaned into Kayla and she wrapped her arm around him. He yawned. "I'm tired."

"Why don't you close your eyes and go back to sleep?"

He yawned again. "Okay." He lay back in the tiny bed and Kayla wrapped the covers around his shoulders. She stood up to leave but Jack grabbed her hand.

"Will you be here when I wake up?"

She smiled down at him. "Of course I will."

Jack smiled and closed his eyes. Kayla watched over him for a moment and vowed that no matter what happened she would do whatever it took to protect that little boy.

The door to the room Jack was being kept in slammed open and Gabe stormed in.

"Is the kid asleep?" he demanded, as though he couldn't see for himself.

"Yes." Kayla answered him.

"Yes, what?" he asked, wrapping a fist in her hair.

"Yes, sir." She whimpered as he pulled her out of the room, not letting her free even while he locked the door to Jack's room. He steered her down the long hallway to their bedroom and shoved her onto the bed.

"What are you going to do to Jack?" she asked him as he started unbuttoning his shirt.

"What do you care?" he asked her. "Take your shirt off."

"He's a good kid." Kayla pressed on, looking at the wall over Gabe's shoulder while she did what he told her.

"So?" Gabe asked, now naked.

"Haven't you always said you wanted to start a family?"


	5. Chapter 5

**Here's the next part, let me know what you think!**

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><p>Morgan rubbed his brow; it was four in the morning and they'd been working straight through the night because no one wanted to go home. It was as if going home admitted defeat and exposed weakness. They'd all catnapped on the couches in the roundtable room but none for more than an hour at a time.<p>

It seemed like they were running straight into a brick wall no matter which way they turned. The sex offender lead was a bust, there were no cases remotely similar to this in the past five years, and they were now weeding through the files of virtually every person that had committed a crime in the last two years within a fifty mile radius of Hotch's apartment. There were piles of paper stacked on every flat surface in the room. The most frustrating thing was that everyone knew that this was probably the single most inefficient way to track down the guy that had taken Hotch and Jack.

"We've got to narrow this down." JJ voiced her opinion about an hour later. "There's too much here."

"She's right." Reid said. "Garcia, narrow this list down to criminals who had partners." He said thoughtfully.

"What are you thinking kid?" Morgan asked.

"It wouldn't have taken much to force Hotch to go along with them cooperatively; all they had to do was threaten Jack." Reid took a breath; everyone knew he had a soft spot for Jack, they all did.

"So why knock him out first?" Emily asked. Emily refused to believe that the blood on the floor could have come from anything other than a slight blow to the head. Hotch couldn't be hurt that bad.

"Anger. This is personal." Rossi said. That idea had been brewing for the past few hours; he just hadn't been sure how to put it into words. He needed to sleep.

"Right, but that's not what I'm saying." Reid collected himself and continued impatiently. "Hotch isn't a small guy, he'd be a lot of dead weight to carry unnoticed down two flights of stairs. And how do you carry Hotch and keep a hold on Jack at the same time?"

"We're looking for more than one Unsub." Emily agreed.

"Guys, I think we're looking for at least three. One to hold onto Jack and at least two to get Hotch out." Reid said; his eyes were wide as they all soaked in the validity of his statement. Three Unsubs with a personal grudge against Hotch.

"Let's narrow down our search. Baby Girl, pull up a list of the Unsubs of our cases from the past five years." Morgan asked.

"Make it ten." Rossi corrected. "We don't want to take a chance on missing anything."

"Done." Garcia said tiredly. She needed caffeine and she needed it fast. "What else?"

"Get some sleep." Morgan told her. "Print us that list of names and go home."

She shook her head. "I'm not leaving."

"Morgan's right, Garcia. Go find a couch somewhere. We're all going to get a few hours of sleep." He raised his voice over the protests of the other agents. "Sleep for four hours. We need to be fresh when we're going over this or we're going to miss things." He turned his gaze to JJ. "Why don't you go home and be with Henry?"

She shook her head. "He and Will are out of town, its boy's week. I'm good." She told him.

Garcia was stifling a yawn. "Go to sleep mama." Morgan told her. "I'll come tuck you in."

"Is that a promise?" she asked him coyly.

"You know it is," he told her. "Seriously, go."

She stood and tottered a few feet on her heels before admitting defeat and kicking them into a corner. She walked toward the direction of the break room that agents frequently used to catch some winks when they were working intense cases. Rossi headed for the couch in his office while Morgan and Reid commandeered the couches in the roundtable room. JJ walked toward her own office leaving Emily alone. Without thinking twice she headed for the bullpen, intending to work through the night while everyone else slept. This was Hotch they were talking about. And Jack, so innocent and young. She developed quite the soft spot for that little kid. Emily paused at the door to Hotch's office and eventually pushed it open. She thought it would be a good idea to look through his files to see if anything struck her eye. She spotted a pile of files on his desk and sat down on his couch to read through them. She made it through one, ignoring the flashes of lightning that illuminated the office, before she fell asleep, curled into a ball on the buttery leather of his sofa with the booming sounds of thunder lulling her to sleep.

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><p>Hotch was trying to doze and failing; the pain in his ribs made him regret every breath he took. He was uncharacteristically startled when the door to the room swung open and he saw the second brother standing menacingly in the doorway. The man moved toward him and reached for his neck. Hotch forced himself to stay defiantly still but the man didn't try to strangle him; he unlocked the padlock that rested on Hotch's shoulder and let the chain around his neck fall away.<p>

"Get up," he barked, pulling Hotch to his feet. "Don't try anything," he warned, shoving him forward toward the door. Hotch complied, unsure of what was going on. He felt a strong hand grip his shoulder and steer him out of the room. Hotch took in as much of what he could see as possible; he was marched past a kitchen and a living room where Foyet Sr. was passed out in front of the television, beer still in hand. They arrived at the front door and Hotch was shoved to the right, down a wide hallway. The first door on the left was closed and dead bolted, was that where they were keeping Jack? The next door, on the right this time, looked to be a bedroom. It had a bed, a dresser, and a desk that was strewn with beer cans and bottles. Foyet Senior's room? They passed another room on the left and this one was a bedroom too. Hotch did a double take as he was paraded past it, stumbling a little because the man had pushed him when he tried to slow down.

"Are you a pervert, Hotchner? Is that your scene?" the man sneered and yanked Hotch to a halt, backing him up a foot or so. "Go ahead, take a look. Gabe won't care."

And there was Gabe in all his glory, sprawled on a king sized bed in the middle of the room. Kayla was lying next to him wrapped in a sheet. She was on her side, facing the door, and as far from Gabe's sleeping form as she could be. Her hair was splayed across the pillow beneath her head and it covered part of the hand that was holding the sheet to her chin. Her other arm was outstretched and handcuffed to the bed frame. Hotch thought she was asleep because her breathing was so steady but her eyes suddenly popped open, as if she sensed them standing in the doorway. Her blue met his brown and he could see the pain that was hidden there, behind the blank look she gave him. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as the man holding Hotch finally pushed him away and into a bathroom at the end of the hall.

"Turn around," he ordered. Hotch complied and his cuffs were unlocked. He briefly contemplated trying to overpower the man but even as he whirled around to face him the man had both of his wrists in a vise-like grip, cuffing them together again, this time in front of him. "Two minutes," he told Hotch. "Don't try anything stupid."

The door to the bathroom was shut and thirty seconds later Hotch was rifling through the medicine cabinet, looking for anything that could possibly be useful. He saw nothing out of the ordinary, save for a few bottles of sleeping pills and a small glass jar of a clear liquid he couldn't identify. His mind flashed briefly to Reid. Drugs? It would explain a lot.

He didn't hear the door opening until it was too late and the guy was on him in a flash. Hotch went down and cracked his already bruised head on the corner of the sink. He felt a solid punch connect with his chin and raised his hands to protect himself, grateful that they'd been repositioned only minutes earlier.

"Get up," the attacker growled as he grabbed Hotch's shirt and pulled him up.

"What's going on?" Hotch heard Gabe's voice from the hallway.

"Nothing. Under control," the man holding him answered.

"Dammit, Gary, what did you let him out for?" Gabe asked his brother exasperatedly. Thankfully, he'd wrapped a sheet around his waist as he'd left his bedroom.

"I didn't want him making a mess. Or were _you _going to clean up after him?" Gary asked icily.

Gabe glared at him. "You better not forget that we've got your boy here, _Hotch_. I'd be sure to remember that if I were you." He turned away and walked back into his bedroom. Hotch heard the creak of bedsprings as they took his weight.

"Come on." Gary snapped at him. They walked much more quickly this time and Hotch only had a glimpse of Kayla, pinned underneath Gabe's hulking body with his mouth pressed to her neck. She didn't even try to meet Hotch's eye this time.

He was shoved back down the hallway and past the living room where Foyet Sr. still hadn't moved. He focused on the space ahead of him, another hallway, as Gary pushed him right to the end of it. A door that very easily could have passed for a wall swung open when Gary pushed a discreet button on the baseboards. Hotch was dragged inside. He secured the chain around Hotch's neck again, more tightly than before, and left the room without uttering another word.

Another crash of thunder from outside sent Hotch's carefully formulated thoughts scattering as he tried to go over what he knew and what he'd profiled so far. There were three Unsubs; at least, three Unsubs that were actively participating in this debacle. He couldn't know for sure if Kayla was a willing participant. Even if she was here against her will, her Stockholm symptoms could be too far gone to help him. He knew this was about revenge, making this both an easy profile and a frightening one. Right now, these men were thinking that they had nothing to lose. Their sole goal for who knows how long had been to get to this point. And now that they were here, with both Hotch and Jack at their disposal, they could take their time carrying out whatever 'punishment' they deemed fit.

He needed to get a message to his team. That's what it boiled down to, really. With an Unsub, or in this case, Unsubs, motivated by revenge, narrowing down a list of suspects can be tricky. Hotch wasn't even sure they'd arrive at that conclusion on their own. Even if they did, they'd probably run down sex offenders and previous crimes with this MO first, knocking out at least a day of work, if not more. They were thorough and they did their jobs well, that much he knew. When they were faced with no other possible options, they would conclude that this was personal and begin to try to narrow down the suspect pool. Knowing Rossi, they would have every Unsub from the past five years or so on their list. Even then, they'd weed through the Unsubs themselves first, seeing who was recently released from prison, who was still living, who had the means to pull something like this off. Then, they'd move on to the Unsub's family. If Hotch was lucky, they'd try to do both at the same time but his heart sank because he knew that that wasn't how he would play it if he was in their shoes.

Hotch tried to think of ways he could pit the Foyet men against each other but came up empty. They were unified by a common goal, a common hate so strong that they would put aside their disagreements and grievances for the sake of making him pay. Still, he forced his mind to run through different scenarios and conversations he could try to have, imagining how they would play out.

Another boom of thunder masked the sound of the door being opened hours later. He squinted, but couldn't make out the figure in the doorway. When he finally did, his heart started racing. Kayla was standing there, holding a half-asleep Jack in her arms. His head was on her shoulder and his legs were wrapped around her waist. She was wearing the same pajamas she'd been wearing the night before and Jack was in a pair of pajamas that Hotch didn't recognize.

"Jack," Kayla whispered, "look who it is!" His boy turned his head and his eyes lit up when he saw Hotch on the floor.

"Daddy!" he squirmed out of Kayla's arms and ran across the room, hopping in Hotch's lap as his father lifted his arms up and wrapped them around Jack's small body.

"Jack, I'm so happy to see you!" Hotch told him, trying to keep his voice normal. Jack looked to be okay, there weren't any obvious signs of injury or distress. "Are you okay?" He took Jack's face in his hands and looked him in the eye. "Are you hurt?"

Jack shook his head. "The thunder scared me and I called for you but you didn't come." The young boy pouted. "You always say that you'll come for me no matter what." Jack said disappointedly, breaking Hotch's heart with every word. "Why weren't you there?"

Hotch paused, trying to think of a way to explain what was going on without scaring his son. Right now, Jack seemed oblivious to the danger they were in and Hotch sincerely wanted to keep it that way.

Kayla jumped in, kneeling on the ground a few feet away. "Jack, your daddy didn't want to break the rules of the game," she told him with a smile on her face.

"A game?" Jack looked from his dad to Kayla. "What game?"

Hotch looked at her too, asking the same question in his head.

Kayla plastered a fake smile in place. "Jack, do you like to play hide and seek?"

Jack nodded enthusiastically, completely focused on what Kayla was saying.

"Well, we thought it would be fun to play a really, really super big game of hide and seek. You and your daddy are hiding, that's why your daddy has to stay in here and why you have to stay in your room. It's so no one can find you. And sometimes, we'll have to be really quiet so we don't get found. Do you think you can do that?"

Jack was only half convinced, as he had just noticed the chains binding Hotch for the first time. "Why's Daddy wearing his handcuffs?" He reached out and pulled on the padlock. "And this?"

"Because your daddy doesn't really like to play hide and seek. So he's wearing those to make sure he doesn't cheat and tell everyone where to find you." She told him.

Jack smiled and Hotch relaxed, thankful. "I'm a really good hide and go seek player," he announced. "Who are we hiding from?"

"We're hiding from a lot of people, Jack." Kayla told him softly, ruffling his hair.

"Are we hiding from Aunt Emily? And Uncle Spencer?" Jack asked Hotch, turning toward him. "Is that who?"

"Yeah buddy, that's who. But you know, they're really good at hide and seek too. I bet they'll find us." Hotch told him. His eyes met Kayla's. "I know that for a fact." He kissed his son on the top of his head. "Why don't you try to go back to sleep?"

"Okay Daddy." Jack said sleepily and nestled into Hotch's chest. Hotch tightened his hold around his small son and within minutes, Jack was sound asleep.

Hotch decided to play the gratitude card. "Thank you for letting me see my son," he told Kayla.

"I heard him calling for you and Gabe told me to shut him up. That was as good of an excuse as any." She told him, drawing the thin material of her robe around her more tightly. "He's a great kid," she said affectionately.

"I know." Hotch answered. "Thanks for coming up with the cover story." he said, referring to the game of hide and seek they were all apparently playing.

"I don't want him to be scared." she told him, and sounded genuine. She looked Hotch square in the eye. "I will do whatever it takes to get him out of here safely."

Her voice was so strong and full of resolve that Hotch believed her. Either she was genuine or she was managing to pull one over on him. The latter was no easy feat.

"I need to get word to my team." Hotch told her. The more contact his team had with the Foyets, the better the chance that they would put two and two together. "How far are you willing to go to save my son, to save Jack?" He tightened his hold protectively.

"As far as it takes." she told him, resting one hand on Jack's head. "I won't let him get hurt." she promised.

Hotch nodded once. The real question was would he risk Kayla's life to save his son? Could he sacrifice one innocent life to save another? The answer, of course, was a resounding yes.


	6. Chapter 6

**Here's the next part! I hope everyone is enjoying this, and a special thanks to those who have reviewed! Please feel free to let me know what you think; I'm especially interested in knowing if you think I've written the characters realistically. Hotch does a lot of reflection in this story, which has been hard because the show never really offers too many glimpses into his mind. So, let me know if you think things sound alright! Enjoy :)**

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><p>Emily woke up abruptly at seven, momentarily confused as to where she was. She sat up and a blanket fell off of her; someone had covered her in the night. She looked around Hotch's office as she tried to get her bearings; the files she'd been reading were gone. This was embarrassing; she hadn't meant to fall asleep, let alone in Hotch's office. She made herself get off the sofa and arched her back before folding the blanket and setting it delicately on the edge of the sofa. She walked straight to her desk in the bullpen to rummage around for the toothbrush she kept in her go-bag. She found it, a change of clothes, and her comb, and freshened up in the bathroom before heading to the roundtable room for another long day.<p>

She walked in and was surprised to find that Rossi was the only one already up. "Sleep well?" he asked her, looking up from the files in hand.

She shrugged noncommittally. "I didn't mean to fall asleep in Hotch's office." She felt the need to justify her actions, something she'd been doing a lot since the Doyle debacle.

"You don't have to explain anything to me, kiddo." Rossi told her, but she didn't like the knowing tone of his voice.

Realizing that any further argument would be useless, Emily settled down into a chair and grabbed a stack of files off the desk. "Have you found anything?" she asked him.

"Not anything viable." Rossi reported, tossing another file onto the pile at his feet. "Everyone is either dead, in prison, out of state, or otherwise accounted for," he told her.

Emily sighed. "Rossi, if this really is personal, we could be running out of time. We've got no pattern to go off of and a list of suspects that's way too long to be helpful. Remind me again why we decided not to narrow this down?" she asked, referencing a discussion that had taken place late last night or early this morning. She wasn't sure which it was.

"We don't have a profile to narrow it down with." Rossi reminded her. "We could spend valuable time running down leads that aren't going to pan out."

"Which is why," came a perky voice from the doorway, "I've had my babies running all night." Garcia streaked into the room wearing hot pink and purple pajama pants and an old MIT t-shirt.

"Why didn't anyone tell me we changed the dress code?" Emily raised an eyebrow at her.

"Hush. Okay, I took the list you had me pull last night and I've been running it through a program I designed myself that literally goes through the names one by one and compares them to a list of predetermined criteria."

"You've been spending too much time with Reid." Rossi told her.

"What about me?" Reid asked from the doorway. He had a steaming cup of coffee in his hand.

"_Hush._ So, while we all snoozed, my babies were working harder than ever to narrow down this list. Now, I'm no profiler, so I kept this as broad as possible. Basically, I excluded everyone who was still in prison with no one to do this on their behalf, everyone who is now dead and died without leaving anyone worthwhile to carry on their legacy, and anyone without the means to do this."

"Nicely done, Baby Girl." Morgan said appreciatively, having entered the room during her monologue.

"Oh darling, it was nothing," she told him in the jokingly sappy voice she always used around him. She swatted him on the shoulder with some files.

"So what did this magical program of your find out PG?" Emily asked hopefully.

"Twenty-seven people. All men, all either living within a fifty mile radius or with family in that same radius. All either involved or with family involved in one of our cases from the past ten years." She nodded at Rossi. "I went big. Anyway, I came up with twenty seven, like I said." She paused and her insecurity showed for a small second. "What do you think?"

"I think you're a genius." JJ said, coming up behind her and grabbing the files out of her hand.

"You did good Mama." Morgan told her, kissing her on the forehead.

"I hope so. For Hotch." She gathered herself and tried to reign in her emotions. "And Jack." She sniffed. "I'm going to go and run down some more names." She left the room without another word.

JJ tossed the file she'd just finished reading over to Rossi, who perused it. "Let's divide this up and get interviews going."

"You don't want to narrow this down anymore?" Morgan clarified.

"This is doable. We don't want to risk missing anything." Rossi said.

"I agree. This is a good starting point. If none of these pan out we can move out from here." Emily said. She was looking over Rossi's shoulder at the list of names.

"Garcia said there were twenty seven names, we can pair off and take nine each." Rossi said. "Emily and I will take the top nine, Morgan, you take the middle, and Reid and JJ, you take the bottom nine.

JJ looked at Reid uneasily, things were still weird between them and she knew it. "I'm fine if you want me to stay here. Strauss will need to find out about this eventually.

"You've taken your classes, have some confidence in yourself; you'll do fine. Besides, three groups are better than two." Reid told her, offering a small smile that JJ gratefully returned. Emily smiled softly at the floor; this was a new development that she was grateful for; she knew how much her friend had suffered because of the sacrifices she'd made.

"Let's go." Rossi said and there was a general flurry of movement as everyone gathered their stuff and headed for the garage.

Emily stopped off at her desk to grab her gun and her eye fell on a photo that she kept in that drawer of her and Jack. Like she said earlier, she had a soft spot for him.

"I'm coming for you, Jack. I promise," she whispered before joining Rossi at the elevator. "I'm guessing I know why you took the top part of the list," she told him. "Very sneaky."

Rossi cocked his head. "Random assignment, Emily, what else do you think it could be?"

Emily suppressed a smile. She wasn't sorry about the way things had worked out. The first name on their list was Gary Foyet, The Reaper's younger brother. He'd just been released from prison for aggravated assault three months earlier. According to his file, he'd missed all of his parole appointments and his parole officer had no idea where he was. The Reaper also had another brother, Gabe, who reportedly lived with his father only twenty minutes from the BAU.

This would definitely be interesting.

* * *

><p>The door to the room slammed open before Hotch could say another word.<p>

"I've been calling you for two minutes!" Gabe yelled in Kayla's direction as he led his brother and father into the room. "What are you doing in here?" He grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her to her feet.

"Jack was scared," she panted, her hands clawing at his. "I brought him in here so I could calm him down."

"I didn't give you permission to do that," he hissed.

"I'm sorry," she whimpered. Gabe released her and she stumbled before regaining her balance.

"Take the boy." Gabe told her. "And cook some damn breakfast."

Kayla bent down and took the sleeping Jack from Hotch's arms; he hadn't stirred even with the raised voices around him. She quickly left the room, leaving Hotch alone with the Foyet men.

"How you doin' _Hotch_?" Gary asked him. It was creepy; he had George's inflection down pat and Hotch forced himself not to flash back to things that had happened months earlier.

"I'm fine. Thanks for asking." He kept his tone intentionally conversational. He would have stood up if he could, but the chain tethering him to the wall wasn't long enough.

Foyet Sr. struck him on the side of his face and Hotch reeled, the man was stronger than he looked. Blood slid down Hotch's face and off his chin onto the floor. He forced a laugh.

"How often did you do that to George?" he asked. "Did you beat him every night in a drunken rage?"

Gabe responded before his father could. "It's called discipline, Hotchner. Have you heard of it?" he asked snidely.

"I have. But there's a fine line between discipline and child abuse." Hotch regarded him sternly, not backing down even as Gabe got in his face.

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"Then why am I here?" Hotch challenged.

"So you can pay for what you did to George!" Gabe yelled, his face only inches from Hotch's. Still, he didn't blink or look away.

"George murdered dozens of people in cold blood. We've been over this." Hotch explained again. "Nothing you do now can bring him back, Gabe."

"Maybe not." George's dad said from the doorway. Hotch suddenly remembered that his name was Gregory. "But it will sure make us feel a whole lot better knowing that you and your son are both dead."

Hotch glossed over that last part. "So why are we still alive?" he asked, even though he knew the answer.

"Killing you fast would be too easy." Gabe said, backing away now. "We want you to suffer first."

Right. That was the most cliché line in Unsub history.

Hotch braced himself for the blows he knew were coming. Sure enough a volley of punches and kicks rained down on him and he was knocked onto his side.

"Now you know how it feels!" Gabe yelled down at him.

"Is this what you did to George, Hotchner?" Gregory Foyet leered down at him. He pressed his foot to Hotch's neck and made him gasp for air. Hotch raised his cuffed hands to his neck and grabbed Foyet's ankle, pulling as hard as he could but the man wasn't budging. Black started to creep in the corners of Hotch's vision and he fought to stay conscious. His eyes closed and his grip relaxed.

"Don't kill him yet!" Gary pulled his father away and Hotch sucked in a greedy breath, the cool air stinging his now sore throat.

Foyet was panting hard but allowed his son to hold him back. "Make no mistakes Hotchner. I will kill you!" Gary shoved him out of the room and left Gabe and Hotch alone. Gabe squatted down next to Hotch and looked him in the eye.

"That was just a taste of what's coming," he told him quietly. "By the time we're through with you, you're not going to have any questions about the meaning of the word 'pain'." His arm flashed out and he punched Hotch in the jaw. Hotch coughed and spat out the blood that was rapidly spilling into his mouth. He felt something small and hard pass through his lips and realized that he'd spat out a tooth; his tongue found the empty space on the bottom right side of his mouth.

Gabe stood to leave but paused at the doorway. "And keep your hands off my girl, if you know what's good for you." He offered up one last withering look before slamming the door behind him.

Hotch stayed where he was, flat on his back, and spat out a few more mouthfuls of blood. He let his mind run over what had just transpired in the hopes of gaining anything useful for the profile. He'd been right to expect the mob mentality; that much was obvious. The problem he was having was identifying the alpha and separating him from the followers. Gary was angry; there was no doubt about it. Gregory was too and as the oldest, the boys might have gravitated to him now as they'd done their whole lives. But something had him stuck on Gabe. Hotch tried to remember the details of Foyet's file, the file that had sat in the top drawer of his desk for so long, taunting him every single day. He thought Gabe was the youngest, if only by a few years. Still though, he got the sense that there was something more going on. He had the feeling that Gabe was truly the one in control.

The bright side here, if there was a bright side, was that they weren't going to kill him right away. Just as he'd said about Emily and Doyle, this gave his team more time to track him down. If he had his timeline right, he'd been here for two days. Kayla had bandaged him up on the first night, he'd spent the rest of that day basically by himself, and she'd brought Jack to see him on the second night. Two nights made sense. He had enough confidence in his team to know that they would be running down every lead they could think of and he didn't think there was any way they would leave George Foyet off of that list.


	7. Chapter 7

**I haven't gotten too many reviews on the last few chapters, so I have no idea what you guys think of this story so far. Please review and let me know!**

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><p>Emily went over the file they had on the Foyets while Rossi navigated their standard black SUV through the crowded streets. She was sure that Garcia or Reid could have whipped up a plan for the most efficient way to interview their list of suspects based on distance, driving time, and traffic but she wasn't complaining; she wanted her shot at Foyet's family. It might be the next best thing to getting her hands on him, something that would never happen now. She frequently cursed the man that had changed Hotch; even if her boss had been getting back to normal of late she could still see the pain there that came from losing Haley. It was understandable. And she wanted to be there for him, to help him, but she was always careful to toe the line of propriety. She didn't want there to be any awkwardness.<p>

And then there was Jack. That poor kid had been through so much in his short six years that she just wanted to protect him from everything else that could possibly go wrong in his life. Right now she'd have to settle for finding him and bringing him and Hotch home safely but after that maybe she could do something, anything to make his life better.

"Anything interesting going on in there?" Rossi looked at her.

She shook her head, both in answer to his question and to clear her thoughts. "I'm just reading about his family."

"Not the file. Your head. You were lost in thought over there," he said knowingly.

Emily sighed. "Sometimes I wish you weren't so good at your job." He didn't say anything so she continued. "I was thinking about Jack. About how he's been through _so_ much and how scared he must be right now."

Rossi nodded. "I think everyone has a soft spot for that kid. Myself included. At least you can be sure that when we do get them back, they'll have us to lean on." He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. She hadn't missed the 'them' and 'they'll' but she chose to ignore them.

"So the Reaper has a family." She changed the subject.

"Most people do." Rossi told her.

She ignored him. "His father, Gregory, has done time for aggravated assault, disturbing the peace, and domestic violence. He was a suspect in his wife's murder but they couldn't prove anything. Looks like there was a long history of abuse going on there. I've got hospital and emergency room reports, broken bones, bruises, concussions and so on."

"That's not surprising. Given how George turned out, we could have profiled that much ourselves. If I remember correctly, we _did_ profile that ourselves."

She nodded before continuing. "He has two younger brothers, Gary and Gabe. What's with the all the names starting with G?"

"That was probably Foyet Senior's way of creating his legacy. Three boys all with similar names as his, he was molding them to grow up just like him."

"Well it looks like they were doing just fine with that." Emily said, pulling Gary's mug shot out of the stack of papers she held in her lap. "Gary just got released from prison a few months ago. Aggravated assault and manslaughter. He killed a guy in a bar fight." She paused, disgusted. "His parole officer has no idea where he is and the address he was using was bogus."

"That's our system at work." Rossi quipped. "Letting convicted felons out of prison early and not making sure we know where they're going."

"I hear that." Emily told him. "Then there's Gabe, the youngest brother. His juvenile record was sealed but Garcia fixed that for us. He's got a history of petty theft, running away, and fighting but it looks like he tried to channel that into something useful. He's an MP at the Quantico Marine Base."

"It's a position of authority, something he never had growing up. Does he have a record?"

Emily shook her head. "He's clean." She was mildly surprised. "It's his house we're going to. His father lives there too, apparently." She looked up. "Why would you willingly offer your home to the man that made your childhood a living hell?"

She'd meant it as a rhetorical question but Rossi chose to answer it anyway. "Obligation, probably. Just because he doesn't like his father doesn't mean he wasn't affected by him as a child. He may not have a criminal record, but I get the feeling that Gabe Foyet is no innocent citizen." Rossi surmised.

They fell quiet as they continued to drive, weaving in and out of cars as though they were standing still. Rossi was going over eighty.

"What are the odds that they're still alive?" Emily asked softly, not able to resist any longer. Rossi didn't answer. "I know we've been saying that since this is personal the Unsubs are going to keep them alive longer but accidents happen. People get carried away…" her voice trailed off.

"You _do_ know that we're going to find them, right?" Rossi told her, taking his eyes off the road for a second.

"I know we will." Emily agreed. "_But will we find them dead or alive?" _she asked herself silently.

The SUV slowed as Rossi pulled into a subdivision. The houses were a decent size even though most of them appeared to be only one level. They were spread out too; wide yards of green grass separated each house from the one on either side of it. The SUV lurched to a halt outside Foyet's house.

"Does it ever strike you as odd that things can look so normal when life is anything but?" Emily asked.

Rossi answered her again. "I tend to find that things that look too normal are just the opposite." He rang the doorbell and they heard it chime inside. They could hear footsteps but the door didn't open and Rossi raised his fist to knock. Right before he rapped his knuckles on the door it swung open and revealed a tall, well-built man. Emily's first assessment was that he was handsome, even though he looked a little frazzled. He was wearing jeans, an old t-shirt, and white socks with no shoes.

"Can I help you?" he asked politely.

Emily held up her credentials. "Gabe Foyet?" The man nodded and appeared confused. "I'm Special Agent Emily Prentiss; this is Special Agent David Rossi, we're with the FBI." Rossi inclined his head at his introduction. "May we come in?"

"Of course." He stepped back to let them pass before closing the door behind them. "What can I do for you?

"Is there someplace we can talk?" Rossi asked.

"Oh, sure." He led them into the living room. "Have a seat." He gestured toward the couch before settling into an easy chair across from them. "What is this about?"

* * *

><p>Hotch knew something was wrong. He could hear people running around the house and yelling at each other and for just a second his chest filled with hope: had his team found them already? He knew it was possible, even probable, given how talented they were, and how driven they could be when someone they cared for was in danger. He'd seen that firsthand when they were tracking Emily down and he didn't bother to delude himself now; he didn't think it was wrong of him to say that his team cared about him.<p>

The door to his cell swung open and Gregory came in first, holding Jack's arm. Hotch sat up as Jack jerked his arm free and ran to him. Gabe pushed Kayla into the room next but left without another word. His brother Gary grabbed her arm and held it tight as Gabe shut the door on them. He glared at Hotch. "If you make one sound…" he didn't finish his sentence but the message was clear. "And keep that kid quiet too." He pulled a switchblade out of his pocket and flipped it open. He twisted one of Kayla's arms up behind her back and walked over to the far wall where they wouldn't be immediately visible if the door swung open. He put his back to the wall and held her close to him, keeping his hold on her arm while wrapping the other one around her shoulder and pressing the knife to her throat. Hotch felt the cool blade of another knife brush his neck as Gregory showed that he too had a silent way to kill them all within a matter of seconds. Hotch whispered to Jack urgently.

"Jack, I need you to stay really quiet for me, just like you're working the case, okay?" Jack nodded seriously.

"Daddy, what happened to your face?" he raised his little hand to lightly touch Hotch's swollen cheek.

"Remember the hide and seek game we're playing?" Jack nodded. "I broke the rules. I'm okay though, I promise." Hotch smiled and Jack seemed mollified. "Remember Jack, stay quiet no matter what."

"Okay Daddy." Jack agreed as Hotch hugged him close.

The five of them waited in tense silence as Gabe answered the door. Hotch could hear him speaking to someone but they were speaking too softly to make out voices. He looked over to the wall where Gary was still holding Kayla with the knife pressed to her throat. She met his stare and he shook his head almost imperceptibly. There wasn't any way to get out of this right now, not with Jack so close to whatever would go down.

Jack actually jumped when he heard Emily's voice and it tore at Hotch a little bit; she sounded tired, more so than she had lately and he realized that he should have known they would all take their search too far, especially her. He cocked his ear toward the door so he could catch as much of their conversation as possible.

"Mr. Foyet-" she began but he cut her off.

"Gabe, please." He flashed her a disarming smile that Hotch couldn't see, but he could hear the charm in his voice and picture the expression on his face. He was an actor and a sociopath just like his brother.

"Alright, Gabe, we're here about your brother Gary."

"What's he done now?" he sounded appropriately concerned.

"Nothing that we know of." Rossi spoke now and Hotch's hope grew even more. "But you do know that he was released from prison a few months ago?" Rossi was suspicious; Hotch could hear it in his voice.

"I did know that. He called me when he got out and asked for a place to stay."

"What did you tell him?" Emily asked.

Gabe sighed loudly for dramatic effect. "I told him he could stay here for a week, but that after that he was on his own. I don't particularly like my brother," he added as an afterthought for good measure. Hotch resisted rolling his eyes only because Gary was glaring angrily in his direction. Hotch saw him tighten his hold on Kayla's arm and she grimaced. He felt the knife brush his neck again, another subtle reminder.

Jack was grinning widely and enjoying the trick they were playing on Emily and Dave. It was such fun to trick Daddy's friends! Hotch was just grateful that the child hadn't yet caught on to the very real amount of danger they were in.

"So he stayed here for a week?" Emily clarified. Hotch could picture her staring Gabe Foyet down, prying deep into his mind through his eyes. She was good at that.

"A week exactly. He got up and left without a word and I haven't seen him since. Which is fine, as our house was crowded with him around."

"You live with your father as well, is that right?" Rossi asked.

"Yes, my father lives here. He's getting up there in years and can't move around as well as he used to."

"Do you know if your father has had any contact with Gary?" Emily questioned him.

Gabe shook his head. "Not since Gary left after that first week. Dad doesn't quite know how to deal with all of this."

"What do you mean by 'this'?" Rossi inquired.

"First George. Then Gary. I think my dad blames himself for the way they turned out." He spoke nonchalantly and Hotch hoped that Rossi and Emily saw right through that as easily as he did.

"Why would he blame himself?" Rossi pressed.

Gabe sighed again. "He wasn't a great dad growing up. I think he feels like he made George and Gary into the monsters they are."

In the hidden room, Gary and Gregory both stiffened at Gabe's words. Kayla whimpered softly as Gary reflexively pressed the knife against her neck harder and he let go of her arm to clamp his hand over her mouth. "Shut up." He hissed.

"What's your take on that?" Emily asked. "Did you father have something to do with the way your brothers turned out?"

"I don't know about that. He made mistakes raising us, but what parent doesn't?" His voice was too controlled, too unemotional. "I turned out alright so he can't have been too bad." He forced a laugh that unfortunately sounded real enough to Hotch's ears.

"Is your father here now? Could we speak with him?" Emily requested.

"He's out of town for the week, actually. Fishing trip."

"Oh really? Where?" Rossi asked casually.

Gabe didn't miss a beat. "I have no idea. He never tells me; he says he wants to be unreachable. He leaves his cell phone here and everything. It's his way of having a week of 'uninterrupted peace'. His phrasing, not mine." Gabe laughed again.

Emily looked around the living room. This place was far too clean to have only two men living here. Her eyes fell on a turquoise scarf that was draped over a chair. Gabe followed her gaze and his face darkened momentarily.

"Is it just the two of you living here?" she asked casually.

Hotch's heart rate sped up.

"No, my wife lives here too."

"You're married?" Rossi raised his eyebrows in surprise. The file hadn't mentioned that tidbit of information.

"Yeah, just married, in fact. My wife is a saint, I swear, for putting up with my dad and me. She keeps this place looking great."

"No wedding photos?" Rossi asked.

"They're not back from the photographer yet. We got back from our honeymoon a few days ago and just saw the proofs. They should be here soon." The lies flowed effortlessly.

"Where's your wife now?" Rossi asked.

"Shopping with some girlfriends. And my credit card." He grinned good-naturedly.

Emily and Rossi shared a glance. "Would you mind if we took a look around?" Emily asked innocently.

Gabe shrugged, the picture of nonchalance. "Knock yourselves out."

Emily and Rossi walked down the long hallway past the two guest bedrooms and the master bedroom. They retraced their steps and Hotch heard them growing louder as they came closer and closer to the wall that was actually a door. Jack was bouncing up and down now, excited that they were hiding so well. Hotch held him still and put a finger to his lips to remind him to stay quiet as he felt Gregory slide the knife around his neck. The older man crouched down and wrapped his arm around Hotch's shoulders, letting the knife come to rest at a point just below Hotch's ear.

"Not one sound." He breathed almost inaudibly.

The footsteps stopped at the end of the hall, right outside the door, and Hotch saw Gary tighten his grip on Kayla even more; he was practically suffocating her. Gabe must have been out of earshot because he heard Emily and Rossi conversing softly, completely unaware that a mere fifty feet separated them.

"What do you think?" Rossi asked.

"There's something about him that gives me the creeps." Emily admitted.

"Hotch and Jack aren't here." Rossi noted.

"Yeah and how exactly would you hide that from your new bride?" Emily asked. "Oh hi honey, excuse me while I hold this man and his son hostage. Just go about your day and ignore me." Emily played out sarcastically.

"Whatever he's up to, and I'm sure he's up to something, I don't think he's the one behind this." Rossi was obviously discouraged, though Hotch was probably the only one that noticed. This was killing him; sitting here silently while two of the best FBI agents he knew were less than fifty feet away from him, less than fifty feet away from rescuing them.

"I agree. Hotch and Jack aren't here, he's got a wife he would need to hide this from, and he works. Unless he's keeping them somewhere else." Emily pondered.

"Garcia checked. He's got no other properties, and neither does his father or brother." Rossi told her.

Emily sighed. "I thought we were going to find them here."

"I did too. But we can't let ourselves get carried away. The most likely suspect isn't always the guilty one. I think you and I both came into this thinking that this was the most logical choice. Maybe it isn't."

"Agents?" Gabe's voice cut in. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"No thanks. We're leaving." Rossi told him. "Do us a favor, if you hear from your brother, let us know, okay? Here's my card." He handed it over.

"Sure thing." He shook Rossi's hand, then Emily's, and Hotch could hear their footsteps growing softer as they walked away from the door and away from him and Jack. He heard a few more jumbled good-byes and then silence, presumably as Gabe watched them drive away.

It wasn't until Gabe flung the door open that Gregory or Gary lowered their knives.

"Damn!" Gabe exclaimed excitedly. "That was close!"


	8. Chapter 8

Gregory unwrapped his arm from around Hotch's neck and stood up. "What are you playing at, boy?" he demanded angrily.

Gabe howled in laughter. "You should have seen their faces! They were floundering around; they didn't even tell me why they were here!"

Hotch forced himself not to respond indignantly; Emily and Dave knew what they were doing.

Gary finally released Kayla and she rubbed her neck gently but didn't move from where she was standing. He stormed over to Gabe and shoved him hard. "That was way too close man! I say we pop them all now and get the hell out of town."

"Will you relax? They don't know anything. You didn't see them out there."

"So how long are we going to play at this?" Gary refused to back down as his eyes darted back and forth between his father and brother.

"As long as we can." Gregory told him. "No, as long as we want to. I'm not going to let anyone, let alone some half-brained FBI agents, stop this before we're done."

"We need to buy ourselves some time." Gabe said, more calmly and thoughtfully than Hotch would believe he was capable of. This was the moment Hotch had been hoping for; but he knew he couldn't make the suggestion himself. He looked hard at Kayla and then whispered something in Jack's ear. None of the men even noticed as Jack got off his father's lap and passed his message to Kayla.

"You need to misdirect them." She finally spoke up, moving from the corner where she had been huddled defensively, shielding Jack behind her.

"No one gave you permission to speak." Gregory told her coldly and backhanded her cheek.

"And no one gave you permission to discipline my wife." Gabe told him sternly. "I'll deal with her." He faced her. "What are you talking about?" he demanded.

"Well, right now the FBI thinks this is personal, right? You need to make them think it's not." She was quick on her feet. "Send them a ransom demand. They'll think this is just another random kidnapping." She stopped talking and looked warily at Gabe, anxiously awaiting his reaction.

He let out a deep breath and grinned, turning away from her back toward his father and brother. "She has a point," he told them.

"Why would she help us?" Gary asked suspiciously, eyeing Kayla with obvious disdain.

Gabe grinned and pulled Kayla close to him, hugging her tight and wrapping a big arm around her waist. "Because she wants to keep the kid," he confided conspiratorially. "We're gonna be a big happy family!" he yelled and raised his arms above his head as if in victory. "What's the big deal?" he asked his family, for both of them still appeared uncertain. "We're going to do this anyway, we might as well milk the FBI and the United States government for all they're worth. We can set ourselves up for a lifetime." They were still unconvinced and Gabe's demeanor changed. "Go get the camera," he directed his father roughly. "Let's do this!"

As Gregory left the room Hotch tried to meet Kayla's eye but she wasn't looking at him, choosing instead to stare straight ahead as the brothers celebrated their recent stroke of genius. Hotch was stuck on what Gabe had said about Jack, that Kayla wanted to keep him as her own. If that was true, he'd put his faith in the enemy. He needed to talk to her in private, to profile her and figure out whose side she was on. But until that time came, he wasn't going to count on her for anything.

Foyet came back in with a small digital camera. "Get over there," he told Jack gruffly. Jack obliged and plopped himself down in Hotch's lap, still unaware of everything that was going on. "Say cheese," he taunted, and Jack took him literally, yelling the word and flashing a huge grin at the camera. Hotch didn't even turn his head as the picture was being taken, he was too busy trying to profile Kayla. He needed to know immediately if she was someone he could trust. He honestly didn't know, and that bothered him because it impaired his ability to keep his son safe.

Gabe looked at the picture. "Good enough. We'll call them first, give them our demands. They're going to want proof of life and we'll send them this."

"What if they want to talk to them?" Gary asked.

"Then we let them talk." Gabe told him slowly, as if his brother were Jack's age. He bent down in front of Hotch. "But if you say the wrong thing, or you try to tell them who we are, I swear to God I will kill your son." He pulled out a gun that had been concealed in the waistband of his pants and waved it in front of Hotch's face. He felt Jack shrink back against him as he realized for the first time that this might not be a game after all. Jack's eyes flickered from the gun to his dad's face and back again, questioning and wondering why his dad wasn't doing anything to stop the bad guys. He was young but he wasn't stupid, Hotch knew, and he couldn't be fooled for long.

"Who am I calling?" Gary asked.

"Give him a number." Gabe told Hotch.

"No." Gregory interrupted. "We need to wait a few hours. If we call right now, right after those agents left, they're going to know something's up." Hotch groaned silently, they were smarter than he'd given them credit for.

"You're right." Gabe straightened up. "We'll give them a few more hours to run around and get more confused." He followed his father and brother to the door, pulling Kayla along behind him. He paused in the doorway and motioned to Jack. "Come on, kid."

Jack curled into a ball in Hotch's lap and buried his head in his chest. Hotch wrapped his cuffed hands around his son's small body and his heart broke when he realized Jack was trembling. Gabe waited a beat but thankfully didn't get violent.

"You remember that later, boy. You remember that." He walked away without another backward glance and slammed the door behind him.

"Jack? It's okay buddy." Hotch soothed his son, uttering similar words and phrases for a few minutes.

"Daddy, why does he have a gun? Is he a bad guy?" Jack finally asked after he'd calmed down.

"Yeah, he's a bad guy. But you know what? You don't have to be afraid. Everything's going to be fine." Hotch lied.

"We're not playing hide and seek with Emily and Dave and Spencer and Derek and JJ, are we?" Jack looked at Hotch with wide, innocent eyes.

Hotch shook his head. "No, we're not playing a game."

Jack settled down and laid his head on Hotch's shoulder, wrapping his thin arms around Hotch's neck. "It's okay Daddy. They'll find us anyway."

Hotch felt a tear slide down his cheek as he closed his eyes and hugged Jack hard; he hadn't felt this helpless since The Reaper was holding Haley and Jack as bait, threatening to kill them both. They stayed like that until they both fell asleep, Jack absentmindedly patting his dad's shoulder as he drifted off.

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><p>The mood in the conference room was somber and frustrated later that night. Everyone was running on fumes as the second day of Hotch and Jack's disappearance was coming to a close. Though no one would admit it, everyone had entertained the unrealistic expectation that they would find Hotch and Jack immediately and with little mess or pain involved. Now they were going on 48 hours with no leads whatsoever.<p>

Morgan wiped his brow and let his elbows thud on the table. "No one on your list checked out?" he asked for the umpteenth time since they'd reconvened two hours earlier.

Emily shook her head. "There are some guys on there that are far from cuddly and harmless but I don't think any of them have Hotch and Jack."

Rossi nodded his agreement. "Whoever these Unsubs are," he said, they were sure it was a team at this point, "they're smart. They've got to have someplace secluded where they're keeping them."

"What about Foyet?" Reid asked. Rossi sighed; he knew why everyone kept going there but he didn't see how Gabe Foyet could have pulled this off.

Emily said it for him. "I don't see how he could have done this. There's something off about him, but there's no sign that his brother is there with him. Plus, he's married. He'd have a heck of a time hiding that from his wife," she said sarcastically.

"Not if she's in on it." JJ said.

"I don't think so." Morgan shook his head. "This Unsub profiles as a man. A woman wouldn't be this overtly aggressive."

"Unless she's being controlled by him. Although she could be doing it voluntarily, some women will do anything for the man they claim to love." Reid said.

Rossi sighed. "Let's have Garcia monitor everyone on this list, paying special attention to Gabe Foyet."

"I'll go talk to her." Emily volunteered.

Rossi nodded. "Everyone else, go home and get some sleep." He could have avoided saying the first part; he knew everyone was going to sleep here again tonight. He pretended otherwise though as he stretched his back and headed for the men's locker room. He needed a shower to clear his head.

Emily followed Rossi out of the room and then headed toward Garcia's office. She knocked once and walked in at the sound of Garcia's ever chipper voice.

"Hey Em." Garcia greeted her without looking away from her screens. Words were flashing and scrolling so fast that Emily didn't know how Garcia could possible know what the information was telling her.

"How did you know it was me?" she asked, settling into a chair next to the tech genius.

Garcia talked in an even tone that only slightly belied the stress she was feeling. "Your footsteps aren't loud enough to be one of the guys and you're wearing flat boots today. JJ's wearing heels."

Emily smiled. "You're far more observant than we give you credit for, PG."

Garcia finally cracked a smile. "Your spidey senses are rubbing off on me." She tore her eyes away from the flashing screen in front of her. "What can I do for you, cupcake?" She grabbed one of Emily's hands and squeezed it. "You look like you could sleep for a week and still be tired. Are you sleeping?" she accused lovingly.

Emily shrugged it off. "We're hoping you can keep an eye on the guys on the list you pulled earlier. Flag their credit cards; keep an eye on any travel plans, social media, that kind of stuff."

"Princess, I am way ahead of you. They've been flagged since they made the shortlist. But you didn't answer my other question."

"I should have known you'd already have it done. You're the best, Penelope." Emily stood to leave but Garcia didn't let go of her hand; she pulled her back down into the chair she'd just vacated instead. "I don't think so." She shook her head. "I will sit on you and poke you in the ribs until you talk. Don't think I won't." she glared but her eyes softened at Emily's tired face. "Seriously, Em, I'm worried about you."

"I'm fine." Emily told Garcia, but the latter stared her down.

"You're worried about Hotch and Jack."

"Of course I am. We all are." Emily's voice was definitive but Garcia either didn't realize it or chose to ignore it.

"But not all of you slept in Hotch's office last night." Garcia said knowingly.

Emily sighed. "I went in to look at some files. I fell asleep reading them," she told Garcia truthfully.

Garcia grumbled in frustration. "Why won't either of you admit what everyone else can see?"

"What's that?" Emily played dumb but a hint of a smile was playing around her lips.

"If you're not going to say it, I'm not going to either." Garcia told her.

Emily sighed. "Hotch and Jack have been through so much in the last year." She finally said. "I want to bring them home safely."

"And then?" Garcia prompted.

"And then…nothing. I'm not going to do anything that's going to risk upsetting the balance of the team. It's been hard enough making things get back to normal since I've come back. We're a good team, no, we're a great team. A personal relationship between two team members would throw that off completely."

"So you're just going to push your personal feelings aside? You can't hide how you feel."

"I know. But I'm not hiding it. You know how I feel. So does JJ."

"Honey, I hate to break it to you, but you work with a team of profilers. I can guarantee you that all of them know."

Emily stood and Garcia let her go this time. "Sorry PG. You're not getting anything else out of me." The brunette stooped and hugged the blonde before heading to the door. Her hand was on the doorknob when her cell phone rang. She glanced at the caller ID and stopped short.

"Blocked number." She told Garcia. The two bolted for the bullpen and managed to corral everyone back in the roundtable room before the phone had rung four times. At Garcia's affirmative nod when asked if the trace was ready, Emily answered and pressed the speakerphone button.

"Hello?"


	9. Chapter 9

"Hello?" Emily asked again. "Hotch?"

"_Hotch?_" a man's voice came through the phone, mocking Emily's inflection. They didn't recognize the voice and Garcia's fingers were practically flying across the keyboard as she tried to get a trace.

Emily didn't have a chance to say anything else before the man on the phone spoke again. "Listen up. If you want your agent and his kid back, you're going to do exactly what we say."

"I hear you." Emily said calmly. "What is it you want?"

"What we want is one million dollars in non-sequential, unmarked bills. Nothing bigger than fifties. You have twenty four hours to get it together."

"That's reasonable." Emily said, trying to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. "But before I can get started on that I need to know that Agent Hotchner and his son Jack are okay. Could I speak to them?" she spoke calmly but she could tell by the expressions on the faces in the room that the tension was mounting. Garcia was biting her lip in frustration and she shook her head; she couldn't get a trace on the call.

"You're pushing it. We're the ones giving demands around here." The response was angry.

"You're absolutely right; you're in control. But in order for me to convince my superiors that this is legitimate, I need to know that Agent Hotchner and Jack are still alive."

"I just texted you a picture." Emily looked down at the screen of her phone and saw Hotch and Jack on the small screen.

"I really appreciate that, but since the picture doesn't have a date or a time on it, I really need to talk to Agent Hotchner and Jack before we can do anything else.

"Fine. Hold on." There was a beat of silence and then, "Talk."

"Hello?" Hotch's voice came through the phone.

"Hotch? Are you alright?" Emily forced the personal concern out of her voice for the kidnapper's sake. She had to be professional, now more than ever.

"I'm fine." That was all he had time to say before the phone was taken away.

"Satisfied?" the kidnapper asked.

"Thank you for letting me speak to him. Could I talk to Jack?" Emily asked, still reeling from the relief she felt that Hotch was still alive.

"You are trying my patience, woman!" the kidnapper yelled.

"I understand your frustration. We're working toward the same goal here but my supervisors aren't going to let us work this out if I don't talk to Jack."

Deep breaths came through the speaker. "Fine. Here." There was silence on the line, then the sound of someone whispering. Emily spoke up.

"Jack?" she asked tentatively.

The only response was more whispering before finally, "Emily?" Jack's voice, small and scared.

"Jack." Emily breathed with relief. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, but they hurt daddy. Emily I wanna come home. They have guns."

"You're going to be home soon Jack, okay?" There was no response. "Jack?"

"You have your proof. Now you have twenty four hours to get us the money or both of them die." The call was disconnected without another word.

"I couldn't get a trace." Garcia said, close to tears. "They were using a pre-paid cell, they're impossible to trace even for me."

"It's okay Baby Girl." Morgan reassured her, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"Well, at least we know Hotch and Jack are okay." JJ said.

"Okay enough to talk at least. Jack said Hotch was hurt." Reid pointed out.

"And we know for sure now that there's more than one Unsub. Whoever we were talking to used 'we' instead of 'I'." Rossi said.

"I didn't recognize the voice." Emily said, gaining affirmative nods and head shakes from the team.

"Something feels off about this." Morgan spoke up. "Why wait forty eight hours to call in a ransom demand?"

"And why ask for cash?" JJ asked. "If these Unsubs are as smart as we think they are, why didn't they ask for it to be transferred into a numbered Swiss account? That would have been much safer for them."

"Maybe this isn't about ransom at all." Reid said quickly. "What if they're trying to misdirect us? Guys, I think that someone we talked to today has Hotch and Jack. They got freaked out when we got to them so quickly so they came up with the ransom idea to make us think this wasn't personal."

"If that's the case then we've already talked to the person that has Hotch and Jack." Emily said.

Everyone around the table let that sink in. Rossi looked at his watch. "It's seven now. Everyone should sleep until eleven or so." He spoke louder as people started to protest. "Listen, we're going to go back over all of our notes, with Garcia this time. We're going to run down everything about all of them. But we need fresh eyes. We're too tired and too close to this right now. Get some sleep. Be back in here at midnight. I'll bring the coffee." Rossi commanded. "Go. Now," he told them in a tone that left no question as to whether it should be followed. One by one the team stood and filed out of the room to catch whatever sleep they could in the next few hours. Emily couldn't help herself; she ended up in Hotch's office again. If anyone asked, his couch was just so damn comfortable.

* * *

><p>When they'd come back into the room and asked Hotch for a phone number he'd rattled Emily's off without thinking. He protested when they'd pulled Jack off his lap and pushed him toward Kayla but Jack clung to her without any apparent apprehension. When she picked him up he wrapped his arms around her neck and his legs around her waist. She held him up with one hand and put the other on the back of his head reassuringly. She kept his face turned away from Hotch, just in case things got bad. Jack didn't need to see that.<p>

Hotch could only just barely hear Emily's voice come through the phone. Gary was doing the talking and Hotch strained to hear Emily's side of the conversation. He saw Gary tap a few keys to send the picture and when he watched his face morph into an annoyed expression he had to suppress a small smile of pride at his team's skill. Gary held the phone to his ear and motioned for Hotch to talk. He knew who it was but greeted them anyway. Emily's voice sounded more tired than it had when she'd been here earlier and he wanted to reassure her in any way he could. He kept his assessment to "I'm fine" and it was a good thing he did because the phone was ripped away almost immediately.

Jack jumped when Gary yelled and Kayla tightened her grip on him. Gary put the phone by Jack's ear but Jack shied away from it.

"It's okay Jack. Say hi." Kayla whispered to him softly. He lifted his head when he heard Emily say his name but still didn't talk. "Say something, Jack. It's okay." Kayla whispered again.

When Jack finally spoke his voice was small and terrified. When Jack told Emily Hotch was hurt Hotch had to suppress a groan. He wasn't _that_ hurt and he needed his team to focus on finding them, not what kind of shape Hotch was in.

Gary finished up his demands and disconnected the call. There was a second of silence before Gabe cheered and clapped his brother on the back.

"Nicely done little brother!" he yelled. He turned to his father. "In twenty four hours we're going to be rich men! Rich men with all the time in the world."

Gregory's tone was still icy. "You may have all the time in the world. They don't," he jabbed a finger at Hotch and Jack but then cracked a smile. "Let's go celebrate boys. Let loose. Gear ourselves up for tomorrow."

"What, are we just going to leave them here alone?" Gary asked, indicating Hotch and Jack. And Kayla?

Gabe smiled. "I'll do what I always do. Go get ready, I'll be right back." All three walked out of the room.

Kayla looked over Jack's head at Hotch. "Don't fight him." She pleaded. "It'll be fine."

Hotch didn't have time to respond before Gabe came back into the room carrying what looked like a handful of black strips of some kind of material and a damp white cloth. Hotch could smell the chloroform from where he was sitting.

Gabe walked to Kayla first. "Put him down," he directed her. She obliged and set Jack on the ground behind her. He grabbed her leg and buried his face against the back of her thigh.

"Gabe, he's six. Leave him alone. He can't do anything," she told him softly. He slapped her and her head snapped to the side.

"Shut up," he told her, as if he was bored with the whole situation. He lunged behind her and grabbed Jack's arm. Jack cried out and tried to pull his arm free.

"Don't touch my son!" Hotch yelled at him. He tried to stand but the short chain wrapped around his neck only let him get as far as his knees.

Gabe ignored him and wrapped a beefy arm around Jack's small torso, pressing the chloroform soaked cloth over his mouth and nose. Jack's cries grew softer until he went limp in Gabe's arms. The man set him on the floor and handed Kayla some of the material he'd brought in.

"Tie him up."

She looked at him angrily. "He's six. What do you think he's going to do, break down the wall when he wakes up? Leave him alone."

"Let me put it to you this way. Either you tie him up or I shoot him." He pulled his gun from his waist band and pointed it at Jack's unmoving figure. "Do it. Now."

Kayla obliged, binding Jack's wrists and ankles as loosely as she could without drawing suspicion. She balked when Gabe handed her another length of material and told her to gag him, but she did it anyway.

Gabe came toward Hotch. "This can be hard or easy. But make no mistake that it's going to happen." He pressed the cloth against Hotch's face and Hotch offered no resistance. He held his breath and mimicked the effects he knew chloroform would have. His eyes slid closed and he slumped back against the wall.

"Gag him." He heard Gabe tell Kayla.

Hotch felt her hands holding his head gently and he managed to keep his neck limp. He felt the rough material slide into his mouth and felt it pull as she knotted it behind his head. She laid his head on the floor gently and Hotch heard her stand up. This was what he'd needed to hear; what went on between Gabe and Kayla when no one was supposed to be listening.

"How long are you going to be gone?" she asked him. Hotch opened his eyes just a sliver to watch the scene unfold in front of him. Gabe and Kayla were standing about fifteen feet away from him near the far wall but neither one was looking at him.

"I don't know. Turn around." She did and Gabe wrenched her arms behind her back. He secured them with more of the material then gripped her shoulders and roughly spun her around again, pushing her against the wall. He bent his head toward her but she turned her head away. He growled and gripped her cheeks between his massive hands before pressing his lips to hers and kissing her hard.

When he stepped back he was breathing hard. "You forget your place." He told her menacingly before slamming the cloth against her face. Her knees buckled and Gabe didn't bother to catch her before she fell, landing on her right shoulder. He quickly bound her ankles and gagged her. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and surveyed the room, examining his work.

Hotch closed his eyes again and kept them closed until he heard the door slam shut. Even then he waited a few minutes, listening for any sounds he could make out but he heard nothing. He opened his eyes and could just barely make out Jack and Kayla in the dark room. He maneuvered himself to a sitting position and, since his hands were still cuffed in front of him, pulled the gag out of his mouth. He took a deep breath and tried to shake the exhaustion out of his head. Looking over at his son's still figure, he vowed that he would end this immediately, one way or another.


	10. Chapter 10

**Happy holidays everyone!**

* * *

><p>Garcia was working off a hunch. She didn't get them often, but when she did, she knew enough to work through it and let it go wherever it wanted to go. The last time she'd had a hunch like this was after Emily and Doyle. There was a small part of her that never truly believed Emily was dead. She'd chalked it up to grief, and so had Morgan when she talked it over with him. But when she'd seen Emily walk through the door to the conference room she'd felt her jaw drop to the floor and she'd known. She'd <em>known<em>. Just like she knew now that they were missing something. Something that could prove to be the key to finding Hotch and the junior g-man.

She was listening to the recording of the phone conversation they'd had earlier and was trying desperately to isolate the two segments of whispers the team had heard. There was no reason for the kidnapper on the phone to whisper and to Garcia's untrained ear, it didn't sound like a man's voice. Was it possible that a woman was involved in all this?

With one last triumphant jab at her keyboard, Garcia had done it. She played both segments multiple times and forced herself not to tear up when she imagined how terrified Jack must be.

True to her hunch, the voice was a woman's. She spoke gently to Jack, soothingly, like a mother might talk to her son. But this wasn't Haley. It wasn't Jessica, or Emily, or JJ, or herself. This was no one that had a right to talk to Jack like a mom, to pretend to be his mom. This wasn't right.

She pulled up the picture that had been sent to Emily's phone during the ransom call. Jack looked fine, calm and happy even. Something had happened between the time that picture was taken and the time the phone call was made. Garcia's eyes moved to Hotch's face, battered and bruised as it was. Jack had probably watched that happen; that was enough to frighten anyone, let alone a small, innocent child.

Garcia scoured the photo looking for any hidden sign or message from Hotch she could find. There was nothing. No hidden sign language, no covert hand signals. Just Hotch, staring off to the side, not looking at the camera.

Not looking at the camera. So what was he looking at?

With renewed determination she flew into action and the frantic beeping of her computers was like her lifeline, racing in time with her heartbeat. A few more taps, a click here and there, scroll in to zoom.

"Oh my God. Oh my God." She repeated over and over. She had it. She'd done it. Well, kind of. This could be the missing link they'd needed. But she had to be sure. She pulled another file up on her screen and compared it to what was on her screen now. This was it. "Oh my God." She said again, gathering her papers into a disheveled pile and racing out of the room as fast as her purple flowered four inch pumps would allow.

She practically skidded to a stop when she reached the roundtable room where Rossi, Emily, Morgan, Reid, and JJ were stationed in various positions of intense review, files in hand.

"I have it. Well, I might have it. Actually, I don't really know if I have it, but I think I might. Anyway, this might be helpful, I don't really know. I think it will be though, because-" she rambled on until Morgan stopped her.

"Baby Girl, you're point?" he asked bluntly.

"My point. Right. My point. I have one, I swear I do." She started again but stopped herself this time before anyone else had to. She dropped her files onto the already covered table and grabbed the clicker for the big screen. She pressed a button and the photo of Hotch and Jack flew up on the screen.

"So, Kevin and I have been working on this software to further enhance digital photographs. What we've been trying to do is see if there's a way to figure out who's behind the camera based on who's in the picture."

Emily gave her a blank look. "How do you do that?"

Reid had caught on already. "The human eye, aside from being one of the most intricately designed aspects of the human body, is remarkably under-utilized. In terms of science, there's still much more to be discovered but we do know the way vision works. What's interesting is that when you see something, your eye actually sees it upside down and then due to the specific refraction of light, the image is flipped so you see things right side up."

Emily nodded slowly. "That didn't help me at all."

"What genius boy is trying to say is that whatever the human eye is seeing at a particular point in time is actually reflected in the eye itself. And since the eye is naturally wet, it provides a decent reflective surface. The software Kevin and I have been working on tries to extract what any person in a photo is looking at, based on the reflection in their eye." Garcia explained.

"Hotch isn't looking at the camera; he's looking off screen." Rossi said, comprehension dawning.

"Baby Girl, are you saying you can tell us who Hotch is looking at? Who our kidnappers are?" Morgan clarified.

"Well, yes and no. I can tell you who Hotch is looking at, but I don't think it's one of your kidnappers. I'm sure it's not."

"Why, Garcia?" JJ asked.

Garcia clicked a button on the clicker and the screen zoomed in on Hotch's eye. The team could make out a blurry image there. Garcia hit a few more buttons and the image was flipped and focused. When she was done, they were left looking at a fairly clear image of a young, blonde woman.

"This is Kayla Jacobsen." Garcia said. "She's been missing for almost two years."

* * *

><p>Hotch hadn't moved. He'd been staring at Jack's small, unmoving figure for the past hour; his only comfort was the steady rise and fall of Jack's chest. Logically he knew that with as tiny as Jack was the chloroform was going to have a stronger effect on him than Kayla. She would wake up first. Hotch knew that, but that didn't stop him from watching.<p>

And thinking. With all this time to himself he was thinking a lot. He wasn't sure he liked it because for whatever reason, his thoughts kept drifting to his failures. Reid, with Henkel. Morgan, with Buford. Emily, with Cyrus, then Doyle. Haley, with Foyet. And now Jack, with a different Foyet. Why was it that he was considered one of the agency's "finest" when he couldn't even protect the people he cared for most? The people he loved? What the hell was he doing wrong?

He tried to snap himself out of it. He'd already gone over all of these situations time and time again, asking himself what he could have done differently to spare everyone a little pain, to spare them the grief they felt. And most of the time, he didn't come up with anything. Not anything major at least. No major, glaring errors he'd made in the course of fighting for his friends, his family. But still, surely there was something? Something, anything he could have done differently. Surely it was egotistical to think that he'd acted to the best of his ability. He didn't consider himself an egotistical man so there was no way he'd done everything right.

Especially when it came to Jack. He'd been basically absent from the first few years of his life. Then he hadn't even been able to save the one constant in Jack's life, his mother. He'd been set to leave the BAU after Haley's death; to be there one hundred percent for his son. But when Jessica came along and offered to step in and help, it had been too good of an offer to pass up. He got to stay with both of his families, so how could that not have been the right decision? Even now, with all of this going on, he had to admit to himself that he still thought it was the best decision. He couldn't imagine his life without his team; it had been hard enough to get by without JJ and Emily; there was no way he'd be able to get by without them forever.

He forced his train of thought to another track. He had complete faith in his team. Rossi was a veteran agent, bringing wisdom and calmness to the table. JJ would keep her head, at least in front of the others. She would focus on every angle and handle Strauss with the utmost grace. Reid would compute every probability, every scenario his gifted mind could think of. Hotch worried about him the most; he seemed so fragile sometimes but simultaneously so very strong. Morgan, Hotch knew, would channel his anger into something productive. Hotch could guarantee that when they did figure this out, Morgan's foot would be the first thing through the door. Garcia would let her emotions get the better of her, but that would be a good thing. Her emotions helped her focus and they helped everyone else feel strong in comparison. Then there was Emily. Why did he always save her for last when he thought about his team? It seemed like it always happened that way. Emily would get through this without a problem. She'd been through so much and she'd always bounced back. Not only that, she'd bounced back _and_ ended up comforting and healing those around her. After Cyrus, she'd taken it upon herself to get Reid through his guilt. And after Doyle, after she'd put herself in danger to protect all of them, she'd returned and faced the distrust of the people she cared about most. Not to mention the late night runs to Hotch's place to help out with Jack, bringing cough medicine at three in the morning, or dropping in with a batch of pancakes made from Haley's recipe that Hotch had never quite mastered. Hotch knew that as strong as Jack's bond with Reid was, part of him had associated Emily with the 'mommy' role in his life. Hotch had made it clear to Emily that she had no obligation to fill that role but she insisted that she didn't mind. Hotch was grateful, even if he didn't show it. He always tempered his emotions around her, for fear of them being deemed improper. He'd seen Rossi's knowing looks and the smirks on JJ and Garcia's faces. But he also knew what a relationship between the two of them could do to a team as delicate as theirs. As much as he cared about Emily, he knew he could never take it further than that.

His stream of consciousness was interrupted when he heard Kayla stirring to his right. She moaned and her eyes fluttered open. She let her eyes adjust to the darkness of the room while she pulled at the bindings on her wrists. She hadn't really expected them to budge and they hadn't. Finally, her eyes traveled over to where Hotch was sitting, looking at her intently. No, not intently, sternly. And not looking, glaring. She maneuvered herself to a sitting position with some difficulty and leaned her head against the wall as some of the after-effects of the chloroform hit her. A wave of dizziness and nausea passed but she kept her eyes closed.

"Are you alright?" she heard the FBI agent's voice come out of the darkness. Hotchner, that was his name, she recalled. She opened her eyes and nodded in response.

"Can you come over here?" he asked her. She considered her current lack of mobility and finally laid flat on the ground and rolled over to where Hotch was sitting. She ended up with her back facing towards him but before she had a chance to sit up she felt his hands tugging at the binds on her wrists. His strong fingers worked quickly and her hands were free within minutes. She pushed herself up to a sitting position and pulled the gag out of her mouth before untying her ankles.

"Thanks." She told Hotch without looking at him. She crawled to where Jack was still lying unconscious. She freed him and picked him up gently, cradling him against her chest. She walked on her knees back to Hotch and set Jack softly on his lap.

Hotch pressed his lips to his son's cool forehead and held him close. Kayla dug in the pocket of her jeans for a moment before she withdrew her hand, grasping a hair pin between her thumb and pointer finger. She reached her hand out toward Hotch and when he finally met her eye she saw the distrust coated there. But he held his hands out toward her and she went to work picking the lock on the cuffs.

His eyes had adjusted to the darkness enough by now, so he could see things more closely than he'd been able to before. The sleeves of Kayla's gray v-necked t-shirt didn't cover the bruising on her arms and as the cuffs fell away from one of Hotch's wrists he couldn't help but place his hands around her thin arms, his fingers masking the impressions someone else's had made before him. The handprint-shaped bruises wrapped all the way around both arms and Hotch had the mental image of Gabe holding her down.

Kayla didn't flinch at his touch; even though he knew what he was doing wasn't beneficial to her in any way. He needed to do this for himself, to put the pieces together and figure out if he could trust her, count on her to get Jack out of here safely. Her eyes met his and what he saw there was a pleading look more than anything else. Pleading for what, he didn't know.

She gently extricated her arms from his hands and started working on the cuff around his other wrist. This one went faster than the first and Hotch rubbed his wrists gently when both were free.

"Thanks." He told her, breaking the silence that had enveloped the room.

"Mm hmm." She said softly, reaching now for the padlock that fastened the chain around his neck. Hotch tilted his head away from her to allow for better access and he took a deep breath when he heard the telltale click of the lock sliding open. She unraveled the chain and let it fall to the floor. Hotch rolled his head around on his neck a few times. Kayla settled back into a sitting position with her back against the wall, two feet or so away from him.

"Will that door open?" Hotch jerked his chin toward the only exit from the room.

Kayla shook her head. "Not from the inside. This room is solid." She sighed. "Trust me."

"Is there any way out of here?"

"Of this room? Other than that door, no."

"What about the house? How many exits are there?"

"There's the front door. It locks from the outside and the inside. Gabe and his father are the only ones with keys. There are a few windows, but they're all barred."

"Can you break the window through the bars?" Hotch needed to know everything.

"Yeah, but I don't fit between the bars."

"You've tried?"

She let out a huff of air that passed as a grim chuckle. "Yeah. Once or twice."

"How long have you been here?"

She let out a long, slow breath. "One year, ten months, and seventeen days."

"You're keeping track." It was an observation, not a question.

"I have to hold on to something." She told him softly.

He held the stern look on his face. "How did you end up here?"

She closed her eyes. "It's a long story."

"We don't have anywhere else to be." Hotch pointed out.

"Fair enough." She opened her eyes and looked up at the ceiling. When she spoke again Hotch could tell that she was fighting to keep her voice steady.

"My husband-not Gabe. That…_man_ is not my husband. He just likes to think that we're married. Sometimes I think he really believes it."

"How did you meet him?"

"Gabe? Sorry, I'm getting this all jumbled." She took a deep breath and Hotch could tell this was painful for her. "My real husband's name is Andrew. Andrew Jacobsen. We've been married for ten years, since we were nineteen." A wistful smile crossed her face. "We grew up together; we were next door neighbors, if you can believe it. Best friends turned into high school sweethearts."

Hotch's thoughts drifted to Haley. They'd been high school sweethearts too. And best friends. He pictured her face in his mind, smiling and beautiful. He reluctantly let it fade when Kayla started talking again.

"When we graduated from high school, Andrew joined the Marines and I went with him. I got a job teaching dance at a studio near his boot camp and we got married a year later. When he graduated from basic training he was stationed at Quantico and we moved onto the base there. I went to school while he served, here and abroad. He'd been on deployment to Iraq twice in five years before all this started."

"Before what started?" Hotch prompted. Jack stirred before Kayla could respond and both looked at him desperately. His eyes snapped open but slammed closed again just as quickly.

"Jack?" Hotch asked, managing to keep most of the panic out of his voice. "Jack, open your eyes for me buddy."

Jack obliged. "Daddy, my head hurts." His voice was so tiny and pitiful; it broke Kayla's heart.

"It's okay Jack, just take deep breaths. You can close your eyes and go back to sleep if you want." Hotch allowed, now that he was satisfied that Jack was capable of regaining consciousness.

"Okay Daddy." His voice faded as his eyes slid closed and his breathing became deep and regular once again.

Kayla stroked Jack's hair softly.

"Do you have children?" Hotch asked her.

She shook her head. "I can't have kids." There was no further elaboration.

"I'm sorry." Hotch told her truthfully.

She shook her head. "It's really okay. Who knew it would come in so handy?" she asked grimly before getting herself back on track. "While Andrew was on his second deployment I opened my own studio. I like to think of the kids I work with as my own." She shook her head, as if to clear it. "Anyway, it was during his third deployment that I started getting the notes."

"Notes?"

"Yeah. Addressed to me. I found them in my mailbox, on my front porch, taped to the front door. They were love notes, poems, I guess. Then there were pictures taken of me on my way to and from work, taken while I was teaching class, taken while I was grocery shopping, taken while I was sitting in the living room of our house. I was terrified. I talked to the police and the MPs but there wasn't anything they could do unless the stalker actually made contact. That's what they called him, a stalker. He was, I guess, I just didn't like the word because that made me his victim."

Hotch listened intently as more and more pieces of the puzzle fell into place.

"When Andrew got back from Iraq I was _so_ relieved. I thought that his return would put an end to things." She paused. "It didn't. Our first night together we went out to dinner to celebrate and our house was broken into. There was a chilled bottle of champagne sitting on the kitchen counter when we got back, alongside a dozen red roses. We had to completely change our routine after pictures of us on our morning run started showing up at our front door during breakfast. Before long, Andrew was working from home constantly and I never left the house alone. When I did leave, Andrew went with me. That poor man sat through more dance classes that I ever thought he could bear. The notes kept coming and we finally decided that enough was enough. Andrew's superiors had understood, but he needed to get back to work. After a while, getting those notes just started to feel normal." She took a steadying breath. "And then…then Andrew was sent out on his fourth deployment. Some of the guys from his old unit promised to drop by every once in a while, and one of the other wives called every night to check in and make sure I was alright. It didn't stop him. I woke up one night with Gabe on top of me. I recognized him because he was one of the MPs that were supposed to be patrolling the house. That's how he was getting on base so easily; he worked there. He knocked me out and when I woke up I was here, in this room. I've been here ever since." She finished.

"How does he treat you?" Hotch asked her. She hesitated before answering and Hotch knew what the pleading look had been about. She didn't want to go there, to relive everything she'd been through during her captivity. "Listen, Kayla. I'm an FBI agent."

"I know." She lowered her eyes. "Jack told me." She smiled. "He's a great kid."

"I know he is. Kayla, I'm a profiler, I bring guys like Gabe down by figuring out what goes on in their heads. Anything you can tell me about him is going to help get us out of here." Hotch told her, a touch of urgency in his voice now.

She sighed. "At first, he was gentle and loving, most of the time. He'd get mad without warning and it was like something in him would snap and he would let loose. As time went on he just seemed mad all the time. Controlling and angry. And mean." She whispered the last part. "He likes seeing people in pain." She hugged her knees to her chest.

Hotch thought he knew the answer to his next question, but he needed to be sure. "Has he raped you?"

A single tear escaped down her cheek. When she spoke, her voice wavered. "Every night for the past one year, ten months, and seventeen days."


	11. Chapter 11

**I hope everyone is having a great holiday season! Here's the next bit, enjoy!**

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><p>She wiped her eyes fiercely. "Sorry." She said shortly, embarrassed by her tears.<p>

"You don't have anything to be sorry for." Hotch told her. "And you do realize that none of what's happened is your fault, right?"

"Really? Because sometimes it feels like I brought this on myself. Gabe's made no question of that. The way he tells it I showed up at his door one day and begged him to whisk me away."

"You can't listen to him. He's a sadist, and probably a psychopath. You're not to blame for any of his actions." He regarded her sternly as he spoke and as odd as it sounds it gave her some comfort. "What are the other two like?"

"Gabe's dad is an alcoholic. He doesn't do much but sit around and watch television. They get along okay, I guess. I don't think they really like each other. But when Gary was released from prison a few months ago and showed up here, they all started scheming about how they were going to pull this off."

"Do you know what their plan is?"

"They're planning on killing you."

"I figured that much out." Hotch said dryly.

"Their plan was to kill Jack first, and make you watch," she told him gently.

"Was?" His heart sped up.

"I talked to Gabe and planted the idea of us starting a family," she said softly.

"With Jack."

She nodded. "With Jack." She mistook Hotch's angst-filled eyes for anger and continued hastily. "I didn't know what else to do. I thought that at least this way he would be alive. I'll do anything to keep him safe." She needed him to understand.

"I believe you," he told her and as he said it he realized it was true. She was as much a victim in all this as Jack was and he vowed to himself that he would get them both out of here without any more harm being done. Silence fell between them as Kayla worked up the courage to say what was on her mind.

"Jack told me about his mom," she said softly. "I'm so sorry."

Hotch shook his head. "It's not your fault." He thought for a moment. "Did you even know George?"

"No. But if he's anything like the others…" her voice trailed off. "Sorry."

"Jack's had a hard time adjusting."

"Will you tell me about her?"

"About my wife?" Hotch clarified. Kayla nodded.

"Haley was…she was my best friend since high school." He knew she would see the similarities for herself. "There was always a light around her that drew people in, brought them to her. I was one of those people. I actually signed up for the school musical just so I could be near her." The ghost of a smile crossed his face. "The Pirates of Penzance."

"She sounds great." Kayla turned her head to look at him.

"She was. We had trouble sometimes, but we never stopped loving each other. At least, I never stopped loving her."

"How do you stop loving your best friend?" Kayla responded rhetorically. "Sorry, this isn't any of my business," she told him quickly.

Hotch shook his head. He was just as surprised as she was that he was talking openly about this. But some part of him had to admit that it felt good to talk about Haley, to remember her. "I was looking for The Reaper – George. He'd killed dozens of people and he told me that all I had to do to stop him was to stop looking for him. I was too stubborn and he went after my family. He took Jack and Haley hostage and I didn't get to them in time," he summarized the story, not wanting to include all the minor details. Those were too hard to remember. Hearing her voice, scared and resigned on the phone, the feeling of his heart stopping when he heard the gunshots. The feel of crunching bone under his fists while he hit Foyet over and over.

They sat in silence for a bit before Hotch posed a question. "How far are you willing to go to get Jack out of here safely?"

There was no hesitation. "As far as it takes," she said earnestly and, Hotch believed, sincerely.

"Can you think of any way of you and him getting out of here?"

"I couldn't leave you here." She protested.

"Can you think of a way?" he asked again.

She thought on it. "I can't fit through those bars," she said, "But Jack could."

They brainstormed for a few hours before exhaustion got the better of both of them. Jack had already woken up and fallen back asleep again, his head resting on Kayla's thigh. Her hand was on his head, stroking it softly, and Hotch's was on his shoulder, assuring himself that his son was safe, at least temporarily.

Kayla couldn't stop herself from grabbing Hotch's hand. It wasn't romantic; it was a gesture of solidarity and of strength. Hotch had filled her with more hope than she'd felt in the past one year, ten months, and seventeen days. Hotch didn't pull his hand away either. He didn't want to admit it but for a second, it felt like life was back to normal. He could close his eyes and imagine that it was Haley's hand he was holding as they put Jack to bed.

They fell asleep like that, each lost in their own thoughts and drawing strength and hope from the other's hand.

* * *

><p>"She disappeared off the Quantico Marine Base almost two years ago. One year, ten months, and seventeen days to be exact." Garcia reported. "She'd been stalked for several years before that, but the police and the MPs could never get a line on the guy behind it. Yes, I said years," she clarified, catching the look on Reid's face.<p>

"She's a marine?" Rossi asked.

"No, her husband is. Andrew Jacobsen."

"And he was cleared in her disappearance?" JJ clarified.

"Uh, yeah. He had a pretty good alibi." Garcia told her.

"What was that?" Morgan asked.

"He was on deployment in Iraq when she disappeared."

"Yeah, I'd say that's a solid alibi." Emily said.

"Okay, just to play the devil's advocate here, who's to say that she didn't run off with our kidnappers? She could have been having an affair and faked her own disappearance." Morgan knew as soon as he said it that Garcia was going to explode.

"Derek Morgan, are you kidding me?" She yelled. "Look at her picture." She jabbed a lime green polished finger at the screen in the front of the room. "She looks terrified."

Reid spoke up. "I agree with Garcia on this one. The psychologist Eckman did a study that looked at the expression of emotions across various cultures. He found that there were several emotions that were expressed the same way in every culture he looked at. One of them was fear." He looked at the screen. "I'd say that the expression on her face falls into that category."

"What can you tell us about her, Garcia?" JJ asked.

"I can tell you that she had no enemies. She owned a dance studio where she taught dance classes to physically and mentally handicapped children." She pulled up the studio's website and they saw Kayla surrounded by a group of kids. "She and her husband Andrew were married for eight years when she disappeared. Now they've been married for ten. They were high school sweethearts that married at nineteen."

"Any children?" Morgan asked.

Garcia shook her head. "She had a hysterectomy when she was seventeen. She had ovarian cancer." It wasn't lost on the team that she was answering all of their questions without looking down at her notes.

"Garcia, what did the police have on her disappearance?" Emily asked.

"A big fat nothing," she said disgustedly, again with the not-looking thing. "They assumed the man who took her was her stalker but they didn't have any leads on that either so the case went cold real quick."

"Baby Girl, how do you know all this?"

"You know how I counsel families of victims of violent crimes?" The question was met with nods. "I met Kayla's husband Andrew a few months after she was taken. I know the ins and outs of this entire case."

"Let's bring him in here." Rossi suggested.

"Uh, I might have already called him. And he might be on his way." Garcia admitted.

"Scratch that, I think he's here." JJ said, looking out the window into the bullpen where a well-built, attractive man in fatigues was walking uncertainly into the area. She slipped her shoes on and went to greet him.

"Mr. Jacobsen, I'm Special Agent Jennifer Jareau. I work with Penelope Garcia."

"Nice to meet you, ma'am." He shook her hand but it was obvious that his mind was elsewhere. JJ saw this and wasted no time in getting to the point.  
>"Why don't you step in here with me? I'd like you to meet the rest of our team."<p>

"Have you found my wife?" he blurted.

"No sir, we haven't found her yet." JJ said and the man's face fell. He obediently followed her into the roundtable room where introductions were quickly made to the rest of the team.

Andrew settled into a seat next to Garcia and looked at her when he spoke. "Penelope, have you found anything?"

"We think that the man that took Kayla has also taken an FBI agent and his son."

"What? I don't understand. Why would he do that?" He looked around the room and his desperation was evident.

"It's possible that the two cases are connected." Morgan told him.

"How would that be?" Jacobsen asked.

"We haven't figured that out yet." JJ said soothingly.

"Andrew, I want to show you a picture." She slid the photo across the table. "Does this woman look familiar to you?"

He grabbed it with a shaking hand and held it in front of his face. "Oh my God. That's her. That's Kayla." A grin spread wide across his face. "She's alive. My girl's alive!" He sobered quickly, ever the disciplined Marine. His thumb traced her face. "She looks so scared," he whispered.

"Andrew, I need you to listen to something for me."

He nodded and Garcia played the recording of Kayla whispering to Jack. Andrew nodded again at the sound of her voice. "That's her. That's Kayla." He looked up hopefully. "Do you know where she is?"

Rossi shook his head. "Not yet. But we're working on it."

Jacobsen nodded. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Garcia shot him a sympathetic look. "Andrew, why don't you go home and-"

"Penelope, please. I can't just go home and sit there not knowing. I'm going to stay here. I won't get in the way."

No one had the heart to argue with him and JJ led him to the break room where he could wait comfortably.

When she returned, the team delved once again into the list of names they'd canvassed, hoping that maybe the seventh time around, someone would glean some bit of insight they hadn't already come up with.

* * *

><p>Hotch jerked awake when he felt Kayla's hand slide out from under his own. He heard Jack cry out when his head hit the floor; Gabe had yanked Kayla to her feet without warning. He looked mutinous. He flung her forward and she went crashing into the wall opposite before crumpling to the ground. Gabe rounded on Hotch, who shoved Jack away just before Gabe's foot connected with his abdomen. The blows came hard and fast, raining down one after another. Hotch sprang to his feet and ducked when Gabe aimed a punch at his jaw. He connected a fist to Gabe's gut and when the man doubled over Hotch could see Kayla shielding Jack behind her, keeping him from seeing what was going on.<p>

Hotch was blindsided as Gary charged at him from the doorway and the wind was knocked out of him when they went tumbling to the ground. Gary flipped Hotch over onto his stomach and put a knee on the back of Hotch's head. Hotch saw Gregory walk into the room and though he struggled hard he couldn't stop the older man from pinning his arms behind his back and cuffing them there. Hotch found himself once again without the use of his hands as he was flipped back over onto his back. Gregory held his legs while Gary held his shoulders. Suddenly, Gabe was towering over him.

"I told you that she was MINE!" he yelled, kicking Hotch in the kidney and Hotch couldn't suppress a groan as the pain hit him. It was then that Hotch noticed the glint of silver in Gabe's right hand: a knife.

"Open his shirt," he directed his father, who obliged. Buttons went flying as Hotch's shirt was ripped apart. Gabe squatted beside him and pressed the tip of the knife to one of the many scars that adorned Hotch's torso and stomach.

"George did always have a way with knives," he said. "You survived this once; let's see if you can do it again."

He plunged the knife into Hotch's side without another word and Hotch stiffened. He felt Gabe remove the knife slowly, his eyes locked on Hotch's face, not wanting to miss a second of the agent's pain. To Hotch's credit, he didn't struggle; the only sign of his pain was the small moan that passed through his lips.

Gabe held the dripping knife above Hotch's face, letting the blood drip onto his forehead. He laughed. "I'm beginning to see why he loved this so much." He positioned the knife for another stab but Hotch spoke up.

"You do know that stabbing is a substitute for the act of sexual intercourse, right?" He was breathing hard but looked Gabe in the eye nonetheless. "Tell me, are you impotent?"

Gabe snarled with rage and raised the knife even higher. "You son of a bitch. You don't know what you're talking about!" Hotch braced himself for the next pierce of the knife but it didn't come. He opened his eyes and saw that Kayla had wrapped her hand around Gabe's wrist. Jack was standing facing the corner with his hands over his ears, just as Kayla had instructed him to do moments earlier.

He tried to throw her off but Kayla wasn't letting go that easily. Her hand traveled down his knife-wielding arm and to his neck, which she began to rub gently. She pressed her mouth to his ear and whispered to him softly.

"Don't let him get to you baby." Her tone was soothing and seductive at the same time but Hotch saw through it, even if the others didn't. He saw the way her hands were shaking when she rubbed his shoulders, the fear in her eyes she was forcing herself to ignore.

"He deserves this! He killed my brother!" Gabe yelled. His father and brother yelled general words of encouragement at him. Kayla pressed her lips to his neck and gave him the softest of kisses.

"Don't you think you could find a better way to use some of this energy?" she whispered.

He shook his head. "You were with him," he said. "You're on his side."

Kayla shook her head. "No Gabe, I'm with you, I've always been with you," she told him.

"Prove it," he challenged her, and pressed the knife into her hand.

She set the knife on the ground and whispered in Gabe's ear again. "Let's play a game."

Hotch heard the fear in her voice and saw it in her face when Gabe finally turned his attention away from Hotch and onto her. The man stood and faced the diminutive woman in front of him. "Which one?" he whispered hoarsely, the lust evident in his voice.

She grinned. "Dealer's choice," she said cheekily. Appearing to forget what he'd been doing only moments earlier, Gabe grabbed her and pulled her to him, pressing her body against his and gripping her head in his hand. He kissed her hard and walked until her back was up against the far wall.

"Damn it, Gabe, control yourself. Let's do this!" Gary yelled at him.

Gabe broke free. "Not now. We'll do it later. We'll let him suffer for a while. Finish tomorrow." Gabe said breathlessly. When neither man moved, Gabe turned to face them. "Go! Now!" he screamed. Hotch felt them release his shoulders and legs and watched them leave the room. Jack was still standing in his corner.

Gabe turned back to Kayla. "Where were we?" He kissed her again and grabbed one of her legs, hitching her knee up around his hip. When he moved his lips down her neck, she took the opportunity to speak.

"Not in front of them. Not in front of Jack," she told him. He growled his assent and groped his way to the door, dragging Kayla behind him. She shot Hotch one last pleading look, begging him to understand that she was doing what she was doing to save him, that she didn't mean it, and that she truly was on his side.

When the door slammed shut behind them Hotch tried to sit up. He stopped when he realized the stab wound to his stomach was more severe than he realized. Without the use of his hands, he had no way of stopping the bleeding. His only hope was to lie still and not aggravate the wound any further.

"Jack?" he called softly. "Jack, can you hear me buddy?" Jack took his hands off his ears and turned around slowly. The look of pure terror on his face broke Hotch's heart.

"Daddy?" he asked softly, running to Hotch's side. "You okay?"

"Yeah buddy, I'm fine." Hotch lied. "Are you okay?"

Jack nodded. "Where'd Kayla go?"

"She just had to leave for a little while."

"Daddy, she's a good guy, right?"

Hotch answered truthfully. "Yeah, she's a good guy."

Jack smiled. "I knew it! I like her Daddy; I knew she was a good guy." His eyes fell on the blood that streamed across Hotch's stomach. "Daddy, you're hurt."

"It's just a scratch Jack. Like when you fell and scraped your knee at Steven's house, remember?"

Jack nodded solemnly but his eyes never left the stab wound. "Daddy, why's this happening to us?"

Hotch didn't have a good answer to the question so he just let it hang. Jack, realizing that he wasn't going to get an answer sat down next to Hotch and placed a small hand on his dad's forehead, rubbing his thumb back and forth like Hotch did when Jack was sick. The small gesture reminded Hotch once again of Jack's innocence and he blinked back the tears he felt brewing behind his eyes.


	12. Chapter 12

**Happy New Year everyone!**

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><p>The next time Hotch woke up, he noted that Jack was curled into a ball next to him. He looked down at his stomach and saw that his stab wound had clotted nicely; all the blood that remained was dried. His arms were numb from being under the weight of his body all night and he shifted to a sitting position, careful not to disturb the sleeping boy next to him.<p>

Gary wasn't so considerate. He barged into the room, slamming the door open and Jack jumped. He grabbed Jack by the arm and pulled him to his feet. Jack yelled in protest and reached for Hotch.

"Let him go, Foyet." Hotch ordered.

"Shut up." Gary told him. He grabbed Hotch and pulled him to his feet too. He steered both Hotch and Jack out of the room. Gregory was, even at this early hour, passed out in front of the television. Gary steered them past the living room and down the hall. He shoved Jack into the first room they passed and slammed the door shut, sliding the dead bolt into place. Hotch heard the beating of Jack's fists against the door as his son yelled for someone to let him out. Gary forced Hotch to move further down the hall, not stopping until he reached what Hotch knew to be Gabe's room. He heard a whirring sound, as if from a fan, but refused to look inside, not wanting to rise to the bait the brothers were so obviously taunting him with. Gary kicked the back of Hotch's leg and forced him down to his knees. He grabbed the sides of Hotch's head and turned it forcefully so that he had no choice but to look directly into Gabe's room.

The bed was unmade, which was no surprise. What bothered Hotch was that there was blood on the sheets and on the floor. His eyes fell on a bloody police baton lying on the floor in the far corner of the room. Here was the source of the noise he heard; a large box fan was on full blast, blowing air directly on a battered and, for some reason, soaking wet Kayla.

She was shoved into a cage that was roughly the size of a large dog kennel. Her hands were cuffed behind her back and her knees were drawn up to her chest. She was wearing only her underwear and bra and Hotch could see the heavy bruising all over her body where the police baton must have landed over and over. She was shivering violently and Hotch understood the reasoning behind the fan: torture.

As he watched, Gabe bowed in his direction before dumping a bucket of ice cold water into the cage, soaking an already wet Kayla even more. She spluttered and gasped but was helpless as the air kept coming at her. Satisfied, Gabe walked across the room and knelt beside Hotch.

"She knows she deserves this," he told him smugly. "Right baby?" he called. Her teeth chattered in response. "The name of the game is good cop, bad cop." Gabe pulled something out of his pocket and flipped it in front of Hotch's face. It was Hotch's FBI badge and credentials. "Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner, at your service." He laughed mirthlessly. "This young lady over here has been arrested for infidelity and resisting arrest."

Comprehension dawned. This was the game Kayla had offered to play last night. 'Dealer's choice,' she'd said in a desperate effort to get Gabe to focus his attention on someone other than Hotch. The only way she knew how to do that was with the promise of sex, and the willingness to accept whatever pain Gabe felt like inflicting.

"Nothing happened." Hotch told Gabe. "You do know that, right?"

Gabe shrugged. "I don't really care anymore. Hell, maybe I'll even let you have her once before I kill you. Right in front of your boy, show him how to do it right, how does that sound?" he taunted.

"You're sick." Hotch told him stoically, unable to look at Kayla's pitiful figure any longer. "And I can't wait until the day you rot in hell."

The look on Gabe's face was of pure glee and Hotch realized that he was devolving rapidly. His dreams were actually coming true; he was exacting the revenge he'd always wanted to. This didn't bode well for anyone in the house, least of all him and Jack; they were becoming disposable. He needed to get Jack out of this place and he needed to do it now.

He felt himself pulled to his feet and he stumbled back to the prison room just in front of Gary, who pushed him to the floor and wrapped the chain around his neck again, even tighter than before.

"If it was up to me I would kill you now." Gary hissed at him.

"What's stopping you?" Hotch asked.

Gary straightened up. "Gabe knows what he's doing. He and George were the closest and he deserves this the most. I won't take that away from him." Funnily enough, Gary actually sounded human when he talked about his brother. "But make no mistake. If Gabe can't follow through, I will kill you myself and I will make you suffer." And just like that, the human element was gone.

He stormed out of the room and Hotch was left alone again, though not for long. Less than twenty minutes later Gary barged into the room again holding Jack by the scruff of his neck. He shoved him toward Hotch.

"Shut him up!" Gary yelled. "I can't take his screaming. If I hear one more sound out of him I will snap his neck." He turned his back on them and Jack settled into Hotch's lap.

"Jack, are you hurt?" Jack whimpered in response, but shook his head.

"They put me in there and I couldn't get out and I kept calling for you but you didn't come, Daddy. I was calling and yelling for you." Jack cried.

"I'm sorry Jack, I'm so sorry buddy." Hotch pressed his cheek to the top of Jack's head.

"It's okay Daddy. We're together now." Jack frequently made Hotch marvel at how he could simplify the world into black and white. There was so much innocence in a child and Hotch had seen what happened when that innocence was torn away too early. He didn't want that to happen to Jack. He wouldn't let that happen to Jack.

The passed the next hour or so talking about nothing in particular: Jack's upcoming soccer game, his favorite television show, the new magic trick Spencer had shown him. Somehow, the conversation drifted to Emily.

"Can Emily come over after we get home?"

"Maybe, Jack. We'll see." Curiosity got the better of him. "Why do you want Emily to come over?"

Jack shrugged. "I like seein' her. Don't you like seein' her, Daddy?" Oh, innocence.

"I do like seeing Emily. But she can't always just come over whenever we want her to." He was using the 'we' representatively of course. By 'we' he meant 'Jack'. Of course.

"How come?"

"Emily gets busy sometimes, buddy, just like Daddy."

"Oh." Jack thought for a second. "Well, why doesn't she just come live with us? Then she wouldn't have to drive so far."

"I don't know how well that would work buddy. Our apartment is kind of small. Where would she sleep?"

Jack wasn't going to be deterred easily. "I could give her my bed," he said.

"We'll see Jack. We'll figure it out when we get home, okay?"

Jack still persisted. "If Emily can't come over, can Kayla come over instead?"

Hotch was torn at seeing his son so desperate for attention from a mother figure. It killed him that the one thing Jack craved most was the one thing Hotch couldn't give him. But Hotch also couldn't commit Emily to filling that role. It wasn't a matter of whether or not she'd be willing; Hotch knew that all he had to do was hint something about Jack and Emily would jump in to do whatever was needed; she'd already been doing that ever since Haley died.

But Hotch had seen what Jack had gone through after Doyle, when Emily had been forced into hiding. Hotch hadn't been able to bring himself to lie to his son so he'd ended up telling Jack the truth: that Emily was out of town. No one had questioned it; they'd all assumed that he was just sparing Jack's feelings. For the first few days, Jack had been fine without her. But after two weeks he'd started asking when she would be coming back. And after that he asked less and less. He no longer expected pancakes in the morning and Hotch noticed that he never asked to play Candyland, which Jack and Emily had played almost every time she'd been over. Jack had been overjoyed at Emily's return and Hotch was pretty sure it was the warmest welcome she'd received.

But that begged the question: if he did let himself get involved with Emily, what would happen if something went wrong? How would he explain to Jack that he'd messed everything up? He couldn't do it. They would just have to do the best they could with the way things were now. Everyone would adapt. They didn't have a choice.

Jack pulled on Hotch's sleeve. "Daddy, you didn't answer my question." Jack told him. "Can Kayla come over after we get home?"

"We'll have to see Jack. Let's talk about it when we get home, okay?" Hotch forced a smile for Jack's sake but in his mind he couldn't see a way to make that happen. If they all made it out of here alive the last thing Kayla would want to do is be reminded of the hell she went through. Jack would be that reminder. He couldn't ask her to make that sacrifice.

As if on cue the door opened and Kayla was pushed into the room. She stumbled but regained her balance before hovering with uncertainty at the door. She was wearing jeans and a black t-shirt that hid most of the bruising Hotch knew adorned her body. She had a split lip and a bruise on her right cheek and when she moved it was slow and deliberate. Her hair was down and still soaking wet and her hands were shaking from the cold.

"Kayla!" Jack jumped to his feet and ran toward her. She gingerly bent down to meet him and slapped a lopsided smile on her face but Jack stopped short when he got close.

With a wide-eyed look on his face, Jack raised a hand and gently touched it to Kayla's bruised cheek. Hotch saw her shiver at his warm touch but she closed her eyes and leaned her head into Jack's hand nonetheless.

"What happened?" Jack asked her softly.

"It's okay Jack," she tried to reassure him.

Jack looked over his shoulder at Hotch and then back at Kayla. "Who did that to you?" he asked her indignantly, mimicking a tone Hotch was sure he'd gotten from him. When Kayla didn't answer, Jack plowed on as only a six year old could. He held her face in his hands when he spoke again. "You tell me who did it and I'll make sure my daddy puts them in jail," he promised her solemnly.

Kayla offered a sad smile. "That's very sweet of you Jack. But I'm okay. I promise."

He leaned in and kissed her cheek as gently as he could. "Did that make it feel better?" he asked her earnestly.

Her eyes welled up. "Yeah Jack, it did. Thanks sweetie." She opened her arms and Jack squeezed her tight.

"Careful, Jack." Hotch told him when he saw her wince.

Jack stepped back and looked at his dad again. "Kayla, can you come over after we get home?"

"Jack, I told you we would talk about that later." Hotch warned.

"But Daddy, she's here now. We can just find out!" he seemed so proud of himself that Hotch didn't have the heart to scold him.

"She might need some time to think about it Jack." Hotch wanted to give Kayla a way out.

"Do you need time to think about it?" Jack asked her seriously.

"I think we could work something out, Jack. As long as it's okay with your dad." She met Hotch's stare and he saw no hesitation in her eyes.

"Yes!" Jack cheered and hugged her again. Kayla held him tight, both because she wanted to and because the heat coming off his little body felt good against her cold skin. Jack noticed.

"Kayla, you're _cold_." He took in her wet hair. "Did you go swimming?"

She laughed. "Yeah Jack. I went swimming."

"I like to swim," he told her. He settled himself into her lap and chattered away. Kayla expressed interest in all the right places and never let go of Jack's hand. Over his head she locked eyes with Hotch. When Jack paused to take a breath, Hotch spoke up.

"Do you remember what we talked about earlier?" she nodded. "Do it. The first chance you get." She nodded again.

Jack looked back and forth between the two of them. "What're you talking about?"

"Just a game we're going to play, Jack." Kayla told him.

"Another one?" he didn't sound thrilled, which wasn't surprising considering the turn for the worse hide and seek had taken.

"Yup. But this one's a secret. Can you keep a secret?"

Jack sat up straight a nodded. "Yup!"

"Good! I'll tell you later what you have to do, okay? But for right now, don't say anything else about it. Can you do that for me?"

Jack nodded and pressed a finger to his lips. He was quiet for a second. "Can I tell you about the time Daddy and I went to the pool and I pushed him in?" he whispered seriously.

"Yeah Jack. You can tell me about it. It sounds like a funny story. And you don't have to whisper," she told him.

And then he was off again, regaling Kayla with tales of humor and flooding Hotch with memories he thought he'd forgotten.

He listened tensely while Jack spoke and kept one eye on the door all the while. When it finally flew open a few hours later, he was ready for it. He nodded slightly at Kayla who grabbed Jack and stood up.

"I'm going to go make some dinner," she announced before anyone had time to say anything else. "I'm taking Jack with me." She turned to him. "Do you want to help me?"

Jack nodded. Kayla pushed her way past Gregory and Gary but Gabe grabbed her arm and held it. "Forgetting something?" he asked her, leaning in.

He kissed her briefly before pushing her out the door, barking out a laugh. Kayla wrenched her arm free and led Jack out of the room. They quickly passed the kitchen and went straight to the master bedroom. She'd already cleaned up the mess from this morning at Gabe's insistence. Now, she made a beeline straight for the window, pulling Jack behind her.

"Aren't we makin' dinner?" he asked her curiously.

"Remember the game I told you we were going to play?" she asked him, searching for something in the nightstand.

"Yeah, I 'member."

"Well, are you ready to play?"

"What do I have to do?" he asked worriedly.

"I'm going to break this window and help you climb through. What you have to do is run as fast as you can until you find another house or see someone on the street. When you find somebody, tell them your name and ask them to call nine-one-one. Okay? Tell me what you're going to do Jack." She unearthed a long black cloth that she wrapped around her hand. She bent down in front of him with her hands on her knees. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm gonna run as fast as I can 'til I find a house. Then I'm gonna tell them my name and call the police. Right?"

She smiled. "Right. Now your Daddy told me that you're a really fast runner, the fastest on your soccer team, is that right?" Jack nodded proudly. "I can't wait to see you run. As soon as you get out of the window, okay?"

"Are you coming too?" he asked.

She shook her head. "No, I'm going to stay here. But after the police get here, we'll get some ice cream or something, okay?"

A smile lit up his face. "Yeah!"

"Okay Jack. Stand back for a second, alright?" He moved back a few steps. Kayla tightened the cloth around her knuckles, reached her fist through the bars, and shattered the glass of the window. She cleared away as much as she could. "Come here Jack." She hugged him close. "I love you. Now run," She instructed him softly, lifting him up so he could climb through the window. He took off as soon as his feet hit the ground and Kayla was left standing at the window watching Jack race off as fast as his legs would carry him.

"Hurry, Jack." She whispered to herself. "Get away from here."


	13. Chapter 13

Kayla tore herself away from the window and walked to the kitchen. She took some hamburger meat out of the fridge and started molding it into patties. She couldn't hear anything going on in the other room and she hoped that Agent Hotchner was as good at stalling people as he said he was. Had she been listening in, she would have heard a professional staller at work.

Hotch dead eyed the men in front of him. "What's for dinner?" he asked.

"You'll never know." Gregory told him. He looked severely hung over; he was leaning his back against the wall for support and his eyes kept sliding closed.

"Dad? You okay?" Gary asked, at least feigning concern.

"Shut up," came the response.

Hotch saw his opening. "You should get him some medical care."

"He's fine." Gabe said angrily.

"He's sick, isn't he?" Hotch asked. Gregory coughed and hacked and Hotch took that as his answer. "Was this your plan all along? Take me down and let your father take the fall?" This time it was the silence that gave him the answer he was looking for.

"You know it won't stop there." Hotch told them. "I work with the best team in the country. They're not going to think that he acted alone. They will come looking for you and they will find you." He warned.

"By the time they find your body we'll be long gone." Body, not bodies. As in Hotch's body, not Hotch and Jack.

"So you think you're going to just take my son and relocate? That you'll live happily ever after? Doing that won't ease the pain you're feeling. Or the anger. Killing me isn't going to solve anything." Hotch told them.

"Oh but that's where you're wrong, _Hotch_." Gabe told him. "Killing you might not do it, but you dying with the knowledge that your son is going to grow up without you, that he'll grow up calling _me_ Daddy, that makes it all worth it. Jack Foyet." He laughed.

"He's never going to think of you as his father." Hotch told Gabe. "He sees right through you already."

"Oh I don't know about that. I think the boy and I have bonded. And we'll have plenty of time to change his thinking after you're dead. A year from now, he won't even remember you."

Hotch shook his head. "You're underestimating him because he's a child. You won't be able to turn him against me that easily. And you're underestimating the bond between a father and his child because you've never felt it."

"You son of a bitch!" Gary yelled. "Our father is taking the fall for us. He's _dying_ and the last thing he's doing is making sure we get out of here. That gets rid of anything else he might have done. Would you die for your son?"

"Without hesitation."

"Oh really?" Gabe challenged. "Let's just see. Kayla!" he yelled out the door. "Get your ass in here!" Hotch heard her slow footsteps approaching before she peeked her head in the door.

"Where's the kid?" Gabe asked her. "I thought he was with you."

"He was tired. He's taking a nap."

"Well go wake him the fuck up! I don't want him to miss the show."

She nodded and backed out of the room, leaving the men sitting in tense silence. Minutes ticked by and Gabe was getting visibly irritated. "Go get her," he told his brother.

Gary nodded and left the room. Hotch heard him yell in anger and he was back in a flash, dragging Kayla by her hair. He threw her to the ground. "The kid's gone!" he spat, kicking her in the side.

"What do you mean 'the kid's gone'?" Gabe asked murderously.

"He's not here. She smashed the window in your bedroom. She must have gotten him out that way."

"Go get the car. We need to find him. Now!" Gabe yelled. He reached down and yanked Kayla to her feet. "You little bitch," he hissed before slapping her. He released her and she fell to the floor. She tried to crawl away but couldn't move fast enough to escape Gabe's foot as he stomped it into her back. The wind flew out of her and she gasped for breath. He reached down and wrapped a beefy hand around her neck to pull her to her feet again. He threw her against the wall and squeezed her throat. "I _knew_ you were on his side," he spat. "You'll pay for this one." He tossed her to the floor and stormed out of the room.

Kayla rolled over onto her side so she was facing Hotch. She took some deep breaths that stung her sore throat but was able to nod affirmatively when Hotch asked his question.

"He got out?"

"Yeah." She took another breath. "He got out."

"How long ago?"

"Maybe fifteen minutes ago. I'm sorry," she whispered.

"You did fine. Jack should have been able to get help by now." Hotch told her. _I hope_ he added silently.

* * *

><p>Jack's legs hurt. He tripped over his foot and fell but he got up and kept going, just like in soccer. He'd already knocked on three people's doors but no one answered. Then the houses had stopped and he had to run through some trees. His arms got scraped up but he still didn't stop. Scrapes weren't that big of a deal for a six year old like him. He'd put on some Scooby-Doo band-aids and be fine. When he got out of the trees he saw a playground. With people! Lots of people. He ran toward the person closest to him: a nice-looking lady in jeans and a sweater. She had dark hair, like Emily. He pulled on her sleeve and she turned to look at him, alarmed.<p>

"I'm Jack. Can I use your phone? I hafta call the police." He told her, panting slightly from running so far.

The woman hesitated, was this some kind of scam? Her suspicions were confirmed when she saw a dark van pull up on the street. A man got out and made a beeline for them. "Jack!" he called. "There you are! I've been looking all over for you." The man reached down and picked the child up, holding him tight so he couldn't squirm away. "I'm so sorry ma'am. He was playing in front of our house and ran off."

She smiled hesitantly. If this guy asked her to go anywhere she'd start screaming her head off. "That's okay."

Gabe flashed a disarming smile. "We'll be on our way. Are you ready to go home Jack?" he asked.

"Let me go!" Jack told him. Gabe laughed while simultaneously heading back toward the van.

"Kids!" he called over his shoulder. "Always with something to say. Thanks again ma'am." He started jogging toward the van now.

The woman had already turned back to her own children when she heard the boy yell. "They have my daddy! They hurt my daddy!" he screamed. By the time she whirled around the man had already shoved the boy into the back of the van, which was streaking down the road. Realizing for the first time that she might have missed something, she pulled out her phone and dialed 911.

* * *

><p>Tensions and frustrations were running high at the BAU. No matter how they looked at it, they couldn't get a solid lead.<p>

"Maybe we should just pay the ransom." Morgan finally suggested, out of desperation more than anything else.

"They'll just take the money and get rid of what they don't need." Rossi told him needlessly.

"Meaning Hotch and Jack." JJ clarified. "Then that's out," she said definitively.

"We don't even know if they're still alive at this point." Reid chimed in. "We're way past the crucial forty-eight hours, the kidnappers haven't made any additional contact, and we're past their twenty four hour ransom deadline anyway. It's a moot point," he rattled off.

"So what do we do if they contact us again?" Garcia asked from her spot behind her laptop screen.

"Build on the profile." Emily said. "And if we need to, we could fake the ransom drop."

"That's risky." Morgan told her.

"I know. But it might be our only option."

* * *

><p>Hotch heard Jack screaming all the way from the front door and his heart stopped. Kayla was still lying on the floor, the combined beatings making it hard for her to move. Hotch wasn't feeling any too agile himself; the area around his stab wound was tender and he felt a shooting pain fly through his abdomen any time he tried to move. Now though, he forced himself as close to the door as possible, ignoring the suffocating sensation of the chain around his neck. Gabe came barreling through the door holding Jack under one arm. The little guy was flailing his arms and legs but he was no match for Gabe's brute strength.<p>

Without warning, Gabe released him and Jack fell to the floor, crying in pain as his arm bent at an odd angle.

"Very sly." He waggled a finger in Hotch's direction but then turned away. "We're finishing this NOW!" he yelled. "Get the phone." He ordered his brother, who quickly obliged. "Now make the call."

As Gary jabbed the buttons excitedly, Gabe turned to his prisoners. "If you make one sound, I will kill all of you." He held one arm outstretched with his gun aimed in their direction. Hotch coaxed Jack over to him and positioned himself in front of the small child who was desperately trying to staunch his tears. Kayla too switched her position; moving with a grimace until she was right next to Hotch. She reached behind her and grabbed one of Jack's hands. He squeezed it tightly and she felt him press his forehead against her shoulder blade.

Gary's face was hard to read while the phone was ringing but morphed instantly when Emily answered.

"Hello?" her voice came through the phone loud and clear, but Hotch heard the tension there, and the exhaustion. She'd answered her phone without looking at the caller ID and was now shooting Garcia an urgent message with her eyes. She put the phone on speaker and set it gently on the table. Everyone in the room straightened up in interest.

"We want our money!" Gary yelled. Garcia flew into trace mode but had little hope that this call would be any easier to trace than the other one had been. "You've had your twenty four hours. We want it now!"

Emily tried to stall. "I'm glad to hear from you. Before we can get you your money, I need to talk to Agent Hotchner and Jack."

"Fine. Fine, fine, fine. Here." Gary pressed the phone to Hotch's ear.

"Hotchner." He greeted them.

Emily faltered at the sound of his weak voice. "Hotch? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Yeah, right. The phone was taken away.

"Satisfied?" Gary asked.

"You know I have to talk to Jack." Emily told him.

"Hang on." Gary was getting agitated. He held the phone out again but Jack wouldn't come out from behind Hotch and Kayla. "Say something, kid." Gary ordered him. Jack stayed quiet. "I said talk!" he yelled. Jack still cowered. Gary lunged for him and Jack screamed in fear. It mingled with Hotch and Kayla's yells of protest and Morgan's hands curled into fists at the sound. With his hands still cuffed behind his back Hotch couldn't do anything to keep Gary away. Jack shrank back even as Gary pulled his arm forward; then he screamed louder and began to cry. Hotch heard Emily yelling through the phone.

"Okay! It's fine. I can hear him through the phone. Let him be." Thankfully, Gary released Jack and backed off. Jack collapsed behind Hotch, who groped behind him until he found one of Jack's hands to hold.

Gary put the phone back up to his own ear, breathing hard.

"Now. Give us our money," he panted.

"Where do you want us to drop it?" Emily asked him.

"Drop it? Oh no, sweetheart." Hotch could picture Emily rolling her eyes at that. "We changed our minds. You're going to transfer it. This is a bank account in the Caymans. I suggest you write it down." He read off a list of numbers and letters. "You have an hour." He disconnected the call without another word and handed it back to Gabe, who pocketed it and then turned to face Hotch with a crazed look on his face.

"They may have an hour." He flipped open a switchblade. "But you don't."

* * *

><p>"Garcia did you get anything?" Emily asked desperately.<p>

She shook her head despondently. "I still couldn't get a trace." She looked up hopefully when JJ's cell phone rang but JJ glanced at the caller ID and stepped out of the room.

"This isn't good. With no ransom drop, we've got no way of following them back to where they're keeping Hotch and Jack." Morgan said. He ran his hands over his face.

"And they've got no reason to keep them alive now." Reid said.

"Wait, why?" Garcia asked, panicked.

"One of two things will happen. Either we give them the money and they kill Hotch and Jack or we don't' give them the money and they kill Hotch and Jack. At this point, they're not going to wait for us. They gave us an hour; if we don't' give them the money, they'll cut their losses. But they're not going to play games." Rossi said.

"So what do we do?" Garcia asked.

Morgan was just about to tell her that he didn't know when JJ came running into the room. "Guys, that was a local nine-one-one dispatcher. She just got a call from a woman claiming that she might have just seen Jack."

"Where?" Reid asked, moving to the map.

"At a local park twenty minutes from here." JJ told him; Reid pinpointed it and started working.

"What happened?" Emily asked.

"She says a little boy matching Jack's description came up to her in the park and said he needed to use her phone to call the police. She thought it was some kind of trick, so she hesitated. A black van pulled up and a man got out and ran over to them. He gave her some story about how Jack had run out of the yard while he was playing. She says he picked him up and carried him away. She didn't think anything was wrong."

"So why did she call the police?" Morgan asked.

"Apparently right before the man got in the van the boy screamed that they had his daddy. The nine-one-one dispatcher remembered our BOLO from earlier and called us." JJ summarized.

"Garcia, look and see if anyone on our suspect list lives near that park." Rossi directed.

"I am way ahead of you temporary boss man." She bit her lip. "Okay, the closest is…oh my God."

"What? Garcia, what?" Emily asked.

She looked up. "Gabe Foyet."

Rossi shook his head. "Who's the next closest? I don't see Foyet's wife going along with this."

"Wife? What wife?" Garcia asked.

"Gabe Foyet is married. They just got back from their honeymoon." Emily told her.

Garcia shook her head. "No, princess, he's not married. I have no record of a marriage or any recent travel. He hasn't even been out of the state in the last six months."

Rossi and Emily locked eyes with mirror images of horror on their faces.

"If he's not married, then-" Emily's eyes widened.

"He could have Hotch and Jack stashed there without a problem." Rossi finished.

"Uhh, guys?" Garcia interrupted, still typing. "Gabe Foyet is an MP at the Quantico Marine Base, where Kayla Jacobsen was kidnapped."

"How did we not know that?" Rossi asked.

Garcia stammered; it wasn't like her to miss any critical pieces of information. "The specifics weren't in his original bio that I pulled. We were looking at his brother Gary, not at him. I should have looked further..." her voice trailed off.

"Not your fault, Penelope. It's him." Emily said. "It has to be."

"Let's go!" Morgan yelled. They ran out of the room and headed for the garage. Garcia followed them, stopping in the break room to grab Andrew.

"Did you find her?" he stood.

Garcia smiled. "We did."

"Then let's go!" he said.

"Andrew, I don't know if that's a good idea. We don't know what kind of shape she's in…" Garcia said softly.

He eyed her with determination. "I don't care what kind of shape she's in. I'm going. I'll do whatever the agents tell me to, but I have to be there. Please, Penelope." He begged her, breaking the tough façade he'd been working so hard to maintain.

She grabbed his hand. "Then let's go."


	14. Chapter 14

**Thanks to everyone who's been reading; hope your liking it!**

* * *

><p>"No, Gabe, don't do this." Kayla said helplessly.<p>

"You don't have a say in this. Get up. Grab the boy. Do it!" he told her.

"It's okay. Do what he says." Hotch told her softly.

Kayla stood with some difficulty and held a hand out to Jack. He took it and moved closer to her, obviously aware that something bad was going on. "Give you dad a hug, Jack." Kayla was trying to choke back tears and she wasn't doing a very good job.

Hotch closed his eyes as Jack wrapped his thin arms around his neck and squeezed tight, wanting nothing more than to be able to hug him back. He pressed his face to Jack's neck and held back tears of his own. "I love you Jack," he whispered.

"I love you too Daddy." He held on to Hotch's neck for a full two minutes before Gabe got tired of waiting. He grabbed Jack's shirt and pulled him back, knocking Kayla to the side when she tried to stop him.

"Hold them, damn it!" he yelled. Gary grabbed Kayla and pulled her back, leaving Jack to the far weaker but still able-bodied Gregory.

"No! Daddy!" Jack yelled.

"Shut up!" Gregory slapped him.

"Leave him alone!" Kayla screamed, trying to break free and get to Jack. Gary kept his hold on her though, grabbing one wrist with each hand and wrapping his arms around her so her arms were crossed over her chest. Still, she struggled. "Jack, close your eyes. Do it Jack!" she told him. He slammed his eyes shut as tight as they would go but he couldn't block out the sound of Gabe's well-aimed kick cracking against Hotch's hip.

The beating went on for about five minutes as Gabe connected his feet to Hotch's body again and again. Hotch was so dazed that it took him a second to realize the kicking had stopped and that Gabe was standing over him with his knife.

"This one's for George," he told Hotch, sliding the knife between his ribs. A yell of pain hitched in Hotch's throat and Jack's eyes flew open in horror. Gabe removed the knife and smeared the blood on Hotch's bare chest for dramatic effect. "How's that feel, _Hotch_? Does it feel nice? How's the pain?" The questions came rapidly with no opportunity for Hotch to answer. He slid the knife in again, higher this time, and off to the side. Hotch groaned, causing Gabe to grin wildly. "Can you feel the life leaving your body? What does it feel like to die?" He punched Hotch in the jaw. "Answer me!" he punched him again.

"Stop hurting my daddy!" Jack screamed. He stomped on Gregory's left foot as hard as he could and the older man loosened his grasp on the angry child. Jack flew forward and barreled into Gabe.

"Jack, no!" Kayla screamed at him. He drew his little leg back and kicked Gabe in the shin. He must have hit it just right because Gabe's face actually registered pain. He drew his hand back and sent Jack reeling. "Jack!" she yelled again, struggling harder than ever, ignoring Gary's laughter.

Gabe threw his knife to the side and pulled a gun from the waistband of his pants. He leveled it at Jack. "Guess we're going back to our first plan."

Hotch's eyes widened in alarm and he tried to get to his feet. He didn't even come close before the first shot rang out.

* * *

><p>The team was mostly silent on the drive to Foyet's. Morgan was behind the wheel, naturally, with Rossi riding shotgun. Emily and JJ were behind them, with poor Reid squeezed in the very back. Garcia was following them in her own car with Andrew riding beside her. Emily's phone was on speaker in the SUV keeping them connected with Garcia and Andrew Jacobsen.<p>

"What's the floor plan?" Morgan asked, already planning their tactical entry.

Emily answered. "The house is L-shaped. There's one long hallway on the left when you walk in; it's a bathroom and 3 bedrooms. The kitchen and the living room are side by side when you first walk in, and the living room gives way to another hallway. There's another bathroom and what a storage closet. That's it."

"Any place they could be keeping them?" Reid asked.

"We searched that entire house." Rossi said, annoyed with himself. "They weren't there."

"We'll find them." JJ assured them all. _We have to,_ she added silently.

"Should we assume Gabe Foyet is acting alone?" Morgan asked next.

Rossi and Emily both shook their heads. "I got a weird vibe from him." Emily said. "I'm betting his father and brother are both in on this with him. He was lying through his teeth. And I missed it," she added bitterly.

"We both missed it." Rossi clarified. "He was convincing. We had no way of knowing." Whether he was trying to convince Emily or himself was unclear, but the words didn't seem to have an effect either way.

"Okay, we'll do it like this." Morgan said. "I'll go in first, with Emily and Reid. We'll take the living room and the hall to the right. Rossi and JJ, you guys take the hall to the left. Clear the rooms and we'll go from there. Mr. Jacobsen?" his eyes flicked to the rearview mirror.

"Yes sir?" Andrew spoke up.

"You need to stay behind the SUV. I can't let you go in."

Andrew didn't protest, even though he wanted to. A Marine took orders, no questions asked. "Yes, sir."

"Garcia, did you call for backup?" Morgan asked her.

"I did. Quantico PD is sending over some units and they've routed two ambulances our way too."

"Thanks Baby Girl," he told her before they lapsed into silence again.

The normally twenty minute drive only took ten and both cars screeched to a halt outside the house. Agents finished strapping on vests and raced toward the house, leaving Garcia and Andrew behind. The man was clearly nervous; he started pacing back and forth immediately.

Garcia placed a reassuring hand on his arm. "I know you want to be in there."

"The thought that Kayla is still alive, that she's coming home…I miss her so much Penelope," he said, still staring at the house.

"I know you do," she said, fighting back tears of her own. When she spoke again, her voice was soft and gentle. "Andrew, you need to prepare yourself. We don't know what Kayla's been through while he's had her."

"Don't you think I know that?" his voice went up an octave. "I have nightmares about what that monster could have been doing to her all this time." He took a steadying breath. "Penelope, what do I do?" He put both hands on the hood of the SUV. "What do I do to help her?" He turned his head to look at her. "What do I do?" His voice was small and desperate, and it didn't match the impressive physicality of the man in the green fatigues.

"Be there for her." Garcia told him simply. "But don't take it personally if she needs space. The hardest thing you're going to have to do is to stay back when they bring her out of that house. But you have to do it, Andrew. If you get too close too fast, she could shut down. Let her decide what she's ready for."

Andrew nodded and took a deep breath. "I'll do whatever it takes." Garcia didn't doubt it for a second.

* * *

><p>True to Hotch's prediction, Morgan's foot took the door right off its hinges. Guns raised, the agents streamed into the house. They heard yelling coming from the end of the hall on the right; Morgan, Emily, and Reid headed that way immediately, sending the others in the opposite direction. Then suddenly, Jack's voice rang out.<p>

"Stop hurting my daddy!" Morgan picked up the pace with Emily right next to him matching his every step. They heard a woman's voice scream something, then a man's low voice. They could see an open door at the end of the hall and Emily realized what they'd missed before: there was a hidden room. She heard Rossi and JJ come up behind them just as a shot rang out. Forgetting protocol, the team covered the remaining distance between them and the door at a sprint, practically skidding to a halt.

"FBI, drop your weapons!" Morgan yelled as Emily pushed the door open. Hotch was on the floor, covered in blood. Morgan noted the halting rise and fall of his bare chest with apprehension. Gabe Foyet was standing over him, gun in hand. Kayla was on the floor at his feet, having just propelled herself out of Gary's grasp before barreling toward Gabe's outstretched arm just as he pulled the trigger. His shot had gone wide, missing Jack by almost two feet. Gregory was leaning against a back wall for support but his hand was steady as he drew his weapon from behind his back. Gary too drew a gun, wiping his nose on his sleeve; Kayla had broken it when she wrenched her head back against his face in an effort to get to Jack, who hadn't moved an inch since Gabe had knocked him down.

"Or what?" Gabe asked without turning around.

"Or I swear to God I will empty my clip into your back and then beat you senseless." Morgan told him angrily.

Gabe rocked on his feet and turned around slowly. "Alright agent, no need to get testy."

He held both hands up defensively, still grasping his gun in one hand.

"Put the weapon down Foyet." Emily told him.

"Sweetheart!" Gary chimed in, recognizing her voice. "How nice of you to drop in."

"Put it down. All of you." Emily directed.

"Why?" It was Gregory that spoke now, albeit weakly. "What do we have to lose?" And with that, he opened fire and chaos ensued.

The hall they were in offered no protection from the barrage of bullets that came flying at them. Morgan and Emily, unprotected at the front of the group crouched down and took aim. Jack screamed and retreated to a far corner with his hands over his ears. Kayla rolled onto her stomach and army-crawled across the floor the way Andrew had taught her. She covered Jack's body with her own and pressed her hand against his head, turning her face so she could keep an eye on what was going on.

Gregory went down first as JJ and Rossi's combined firepower hit him. Gary yelled in fury and fired blindly into the clump of agents. Rossi grunted and fell backward as he felt a bullet hit him but noted with relief that his vest caught it. Reid took careful aim and pulled the trigger; blood splattered as Gary crumpled to the floor with a new dime-sized hole in his forehead.

Gabe was the only one left and he was determined not to go down alone. He turned to Hotch and leveled his gun, even as one of Emily's bullets tore through his shoulder just as he pulled the trigger. The force of the bullet spun him around just enough that he missed again and now he was facing Kayla and, even if he couldn't see him, Jack. Kayla was staring up at him in fear and things seemed to happen in slow motion. Gabe grinned madly. "Bye-bye, bitch." He raised his gun and Kayla closed her eyes but the shot never came. Instead Morgan came charging out of the doorway and crashed into Foyet full force. The gun flew out of his hand and clattered across the floor.

"Stay down you son of a bitch." Morgan told him. Gabe flipped over and tried to grab Morgan's neck. Morgan punched him and Gabe's head snapped to the side. "I said stay down." Morgan rolled him over and cuffed his hands behind his back. He dug in Gabe's pockets until he found the keys for the handcuffs and chain binding Hotch. He left Gabe lying semi-conscious in the middle of the floor and went to Hotch's aid. He was quickly joined by Rossi who knelt beside him and took the keys, going to work on the chain around Hotch's neck.

"Hotch? Hotch, can you hear me?" Morgan asked him, for Hotch's eyes were closed.

"Where's Jack?" he asked as the chain fell away.

"He's-" Morgan paused and looked over to the corner. Emily and JJ were helping Kayla sit up and Reid had grabbed Jack, who was clinging to him like a monkey. "He's fine, Hotch. Reid's got him."

"Aaron, can you sit up?" Rossi asked him. Hotch nodded, so Rossi and Morgan grabbed his shoulders and helped him sit up. Rossi quickly freed his hands. "I'll go get a medic."

"I don't need a medic." Hotch told him.

"Hotch, don't even argue." Morgan said.

"Just get me out of here. I need to see Jack." Hotch told them. Morgan and Rossi looked at each other. "If you don't help me up I will get up and walk out of here myself." Hotch told them. Morgan rolled his eyes and sighed at his stubbornness. Nevertheless, he and Rossi slid their arms around Hotch's back and pulled him to his feet. Hotch's bloodstained shirt flapped as they helped him walk out of the room and to the waiting ambulances outside.

* * *

><p>Kayla had braced herself for the shot that didn't come so when she heard Gabe get tackled she jumped and opened her eyes. Agent Morgan was on top of him, cuffing his hands behind his back. Still, she didn't move. She saw two female agents coming toward her, one blonde and one brunette, and a tall agent who didn't even look like he was old enough to be out of high school.<p>

"Kayla?" the blonde agent spoke to her softly and helped her sit up. "Are you okay?"

She had trouble finding her voice, so she nodded. She followed the dark-haired agent's look over to where two other agents were attending to Agent Hotchner.

"Emily?" She turned at the sound of Jack's voice and Kayla started putting things together. Jack had told her about Emily before. Emily bent down.

"Jack, are you hurt?" The boy shook his head.

"Where's Daddy?" he asked in a small voice.

"He's okay Jack." Emily told him. "Jack, I want you to go with Spencer, okay? He's going to get you out of here."

Jack nodded and held his arms up. Reid lifted him and Jack wrapped his legs and arms tightly around him. Reid rushed out of the room and was soon followed by Rossi and Morgan, who were holding Hotch up. Emily stared after them before focusing her attention back on Kayla.

"Kayla, where are you hurt?" JJ asked, taking in the woman's bruised face.

"Um." Kayla whispered. "I don't know." She hugged herself tightly. "I'm sorry."

JJ and Emily each grabbed one of her hands. "You're doing fine. We'll take this slow." Emily told her with a smile.

Kayla took a few deep breaths. "Jack's okay?" she verified.

Emily nodded. "He's fine."

"What about Agent Hotchner?"

Emily and JJ shared a look. "He's getting checked out." JJ told her.

Kayla nodded to herself. "What happens now?" she asked, honestly at a loss on how to move forward.

"Can you stand?" JJ asked her. Kayla nodded uncertainly and managed to make it to her feet with JJ and Emily supporting her on each side. She took a step and was pleasantly surprised when she didn't falter.

They worked their way slowly to the front door, passing Morgan as he came back in to grab Gabe. When she saw the front door Kayla's heart sped up; she hadn't been out of this house in almost two years. She squeezed Emily's hand as they drew closer and closed her eyes when she felt the sunlight hit her face. She stepped outside and surveyed the scene in front of her. There were flashing lights everywhere, ambulances and police cars crowded the street. She took a few more steps away from the door and stopped, her breath catching in her throat when she caught sight of a brightly dressed woman standing beside a man in fatigues.

The women stepped to the side as Morgan dragged a now-conscious Foyet out of the house and that's when the scene seemed to erupt. Everyone started yelling and it took Kayla a moment to figure out why.

The man in fatigues had leapt over the front of the SUV and was racing toward Foyet. He reached him in a matter of seconds and punched him in the jaw. Morgan shoved Foyet into the waiting arms to two local officers and put a restraining hand on Andrew's chest. The man was panting hard both out of rage at the man who'd hurt his wife and out of relief at the sight of the woman that had just walked out of the house, mostly of her own accord. Andrew didn't fight as Morgan walked him backward a few steps; Garcia's words ran through his head.

Kayla panicked and shrank back when she saw Andrew coming at her, mistaking the anger in his face for all the anger that had been directed at her for the past one year, ten months, and seventeen days.

"What is he going to think of me?" she asked the agents at her side.

"He never gave up on you." JJ told her truthfully.

"And he refused to be left behind today." Emily added.

"He loves you. You'll get through this." JJ finished off. "Do you need some time? We can have him leave."

Kayla shook her head. "I don't want him to leave. Can I talk to him?" She looked at Emily. "Please?"

"Of course." Emily beckoned to Andrew to come closer and as he did, she and JJ stepped back a bit. "We're right here." She told Kayla.

Andrew approached her slowly, not wanting to appear overly aggressive. He stopped himself from sweeping her up in his arms, instead standing a comfortable distance from her. Her eyes searched his face for any hesitation, any disgust on seeing her like this. His in turn traveled from the bruise on her cheek to the gash on her lip, then down to the bruising on her arms. He had the fleeting thought that he hadn't hit the bastard hard enough.

Tentatively, Kayla reached a shaking hand out to him. He wrapped her tiny hand in his large one and held it gently, taking a few more hesitant steps forward. He raised a hand and cupped her cheek, his thumb lightly tracing the bruising there. Her eyes filled with tears as she moved closer to him.

"I missed you," he whispered hoarsely.

"I missed you too," she told him. "More than you can imagine." She reached her arm up and wrapped it around his neck, wanting nothing more to be in the safest place she could think of: his arms.

Andrew let go of her hand and wrapped his big arms around her tiny waist, holding her lightly. She buried her face in the crook of his neck and took in his scent, the one she'd tried to imagine every night during her captivity. They stood like that for a full five minutes, oblivious to the stares of those around them. Seeing no discomfort, Emily and JJ had stepped away to check on Hotch and Jack.

Hotch was lying on a stretcher outside an ambulance with Jack nestled next to him. Rossi and Reid were next to them on one side with Morgan and a tearful Garcia on the other.

"Are you okay?" Emily asked Hotch as they approached.

"I'm fine." He said but didn't tear his eyes away from the reunion going on in front of him.

"What about you Jack?" Emily asked him, taking in the bruise on his face from where Gabe had hit him.

"I'm fine too!" he smiled broadly and grabbed Emily's hand. They watched Kayla press her forehead against Andrew's.

"Let's get you checked out." Andrew said softly. Kayla nodded her assent but stumbled on her first step.

"Sorry." She apologized out of habit more than anything else.

"You don't have anything to be sorry for." He told her. He moved one arm to her waist and the other behind her knees, scooping her up and holding her close. "Is this okay?" he asked her. "If it's not, just tell me," he said urgently.

"It's okay. There's no place I'd rather be," she told him honestly as she pressed her cheek to his strong chest. The sound of his heartbeat soothed her. He carried her over to a waiting ambulance and gently set her down on an empty stretcher. He climbed in beside her as they closed the ambulance doors and headed for the hospital.

"Agent Hotchner? We need to get going." The paramedics told him. Jack wouldn't let go of Emily's hand, so she climbed into the ambulance with them.

"We'll meet you at the hospital." Rossi told her before the ambulance drove off. Emily nodded once and looked back down at Hotch, who had closed his eyes again.

"Jack, why don't you sit on my lap?" she suggested. "Daddy looks like he could use a little more room there."

Jack obliged and climbed onto her lap. "Is Daddy going to be okay?" he whispered in her ear.

"Yeah Jack, he'll be fine." She wrapped one arm around Jack's waist and slipped her other hand into one of Hotch's. "He'll be fine."


	15. Chapter 15

**Here's the last chapter! I've really enjoyed writing this one and getting your feedback, so thanks for reading! I've got a new idea for a fic that keeps rolling around in my head, so keep and eye out for that if you like!**

* * *

><p>Emily met the others in the waiting room of the hospital after the ambulance arrived. Hotch and Jack were both taken to exam rooms; she hadn't been allowed to go with them and she wasn't happy about it.<p>

"How are they?" JJ stood and asked her when she walked in.

"I don't know. Jack was up and bouncing around but I heard the paramedics say they were taking Hotch into surgery."

"Was he conscious?" Morgan asked.

"In and out." Emily told them, and it was true. They'd locked eyes a few times during the ride over but Hotch hadn't been able to say anything.

"Sounds pretty standard." Rossi said. "They'll take care of him."

Emily nodded and sat down beside Andrew, who had his head in one hand and was gripping Garcia's hand with the other.

"Has there been any word on your wife?" Emily asked him softly.

He shook his head. "The doctors are with her. She passed out in the ambulance."

As if on cue a female doctor in a long white coat appeared, grasping a pile of folders in one hand. "Mr. Jacobsen?" she asked.

Andrew rose nervously. "How's my wife?" he pleaded. "How's Kayla?"

The doctor smiled gently. "She's going to be fine." Andrew exhaled slowly and looked up at the ceiling while the doctor continued. "She's got a pretty long recovery ahead of her, physically and emotionally," she warned. "But there won't be any lasting physical damage."

"Can I see her?"

"Of course. Follow me." She turned and began walking down the long sterile hallway. Andrew followed her for two steps then stopped and turned to face the BAU team.

"Thank you. For everything." He managed a smile and jogged to catch up with the doctor, leaving everyone else back in the waiting room.

He followed the doctor down a long hallway and into Kayla's room. She was hooked up to a few monitors and had an IV poking out of the back of her right hand. He sat down gently in a chair beside her bed and grabbed her left hand with both of his. Seeing her safe was the answer to all of his prayers from the last two years. To think that this ordeal was finally over was the best thing he could have asked for.

Kayla stirred and Andrew saw panic in her eyes when she opened them. The beeping that kept track of her heart rate sped up and filled the room with the urgent noise. She jerked her hand away from Andrew's and sat up in a panic.

"Kayla? You're okay baby. You're in a hospital." The frantic beeping slowed and returned to normal and Kayla leaned her head back against the pillow.

"Andrew?" she asked softly.

"Yeah. It's me. You're okay now."

Kayla nodded. "How's Jack?"

"Agent Prentiss said the doctors were looking him over, but that he seemed okay." Andrew saw the longing in her eyes. He knew how much she loved children and it seemed like she'd grown pretty attached to Jack.

"And Agent Hotchner?"

"He's in surgery. Why don't you go back to sleep?"

Kayla nodded. "Don't leave," she told him, sliding her hand back into his.

"I'm not going anywhere," he promised. He felt Kayla tug his hand closer to her and he obliged her by lying down on the bed next to her. He wrapped an arm gently around her shoulders as she nestled into his side and placed her exhausted head on his strong chest. He pressed his cheek to her head and stroked her hair gently. "I'm not going anywhere." he repeated softly.

* * *

><p>"One down." JJ said quietly, settling back in her chair and leaning her head against the wall after Andrew left.<p>

It wasn't long before it was two. A different doctor returned, a man this time. "Are any of you here for Jack Hotchner?" Everyone stood in response and the doctor appeared to be rather taken aback. "I'm sorry, which of you are Jack's family?"

Morgan answered for all of them. "We're all his family." The doctor smiled as though Morgan was an amusing child.

"I'm sorry, I can only release medical information to Jack's family or those indicated on his medical chart."

Morgan was getting irritated. "His father's in surgery." He flashed his badge. "You can release any medical information you have to us."

The doctor shook his head. Normally, Rossi would admire a man that stuck to the ethical principles of his profession but in this case, it was a little ridiculous.

"Doctor, I can assure you that Agent Hotchner would have no problem with you releasing Jack's medical information to us."

"I'm sorry." The doctor said again. "I can only release information to Agent Hotchner himself or-" he checked a note on Jack's chart. "Emily Prentiss."

Emily was taken aback. Hotch had put her down as a medical contact for Jack? "I'm Emily." She spoke up and flashed her Bureau ID as proof.

The doctor smiled pleasantly, oblivious to the tense atmosphere in the room. "Jack's fine. He's got a few bumps and bruises but he'll be okay. I can get the paperwork for his discharge any time."

"Get it now." Emily told him. "I'll sign everything." The doctor nodded and walked away.

"Did you know you were Jack's medical contact?" Garcia asked her. Emily shook her head.

"I had no idea." The doctor returned with a stack of forms that Emily quickly filled out and handed back to him.

He looked things over. "Everything seems to be in order. Follow me." Emily obliged and looked over her shoulder to the team.

"I'll be right back," she told them.

The doctor led her down a long hallway and into the brightly decorated pediatric ward of the hospital. He paused at the doorway to Jack's room. "You can take him whenever he's ready." Emily nodded her thanks and stepped inside.

Jack looked so small curled up under the sheets of his enormous hospital bed. Even from the doorway Emily could see the bruise on his cheek that Gabe Foyet had left him with. Jack seemed to be sleeping but as Emily moved closer to the bed he opened his eyes and sat up smiling.

"Emily!" He held out his arms for a hug.

"Hi Jack! How are you?"

"I'm good." He looked around. "Where's Daddy?"

"Daddy's with the doctors. They're helping him get better."

Jack's face fell. "You got the bad guys, right?"

Emily nodded. "We did Jack. We got all of them. They can't hurt you anymore."

"Or Daddy?"

"They can't hurt Daddy anymore either."

"Or Kayla?"

"Or Kayla."

"How long do I hafta stay here?" Jack asked next.

"Well, guess what?" Emily teased. "You can leave right now!"

"Really?" he verified gleefully, throwing his arms around Emily's neck.

"Yup! Your Aunt Jessica brought you some clothes, but she had to leave, so I'm going to take you home, okay?"

Jack sat back. "I don't want to go home without Daddy." He started to pout. "I wanna stay here! Please?" His eyes were panicked.

"Yeah, Jack. You can stay here. Let's get you dressed and then we'll go wait with everyone else, okay?"

He nodded and reached in for another hug. "I love you Emily."

"I love you too Jack." She kissed the top of Jack's head and held him close. "Now come on, let's get dressed. I think Penelope has a candy bar for you." He grinned at him. He jumped off the bed and grabbed his clothes before heading into the bathroom. He was back out a few minutes later and reached for Emily's outstretched hand. They walked down the hall back to the waiting room hand in hand. Everyone looked the same as they had when Emily had left them a few minutes earlier: worried and exhausted. But when they saw Jack everyone put a smile on their face and, fake or not, he liked it.

There were hugs all around and, as promised, Garcia produced Jack's favorite candy bar. As she closed her purse, Emily caught a glimpse inside and had to suppress a smile; there were at least ten more of the same candy bar hidden in there.

Emily took a seat next to Morgan while Jack talked with Reid, who produced a deck of cards out of nowhere and started working on a new trick. Emily stared in their direction, not really paying attention to what was going on.

Rossi and JJ were deep in conversation and Garcia had taken a call from Kevin and was now filling him in on everything that had happened. Emily turned her head sharply when Morgan said her name and she realized that he'd already said it twice.

"You okay Prentiss?" he was obviously concerned.

She nodded. "Fine. I'm fine. I just hate hospitals."

"This has got to be hard for you considering the last time you were in one was after Doyle." Leave it to Morgan to be blunt.

"Yeah. I just can't stand the waiting."

"Now you know how we felt." Morgan couldn't resist throwing in, though he knew it was uncalled for. "Sorry," he apologized almost immediately. "I didn't mean that."

"It's okay." Emily offered a tentative smile. "I deserved that one."

"No, you didn't." Morgan said truthfully. "I know it wasn't your fault."

"That means a lot." Emily acknowledged. "Especially coming from you."

They lapsed into a comfortable silence for a few minutes before Morgan spoke again. "What's going on with you and Hotch?"

"Nothing." Emily answered.

"Emily." Morgan said. "He made you Jack's medical contact. I'm betting he made you his medical contact too."

Emily sighed. "That doesn't mean anything. It just as easily could have been you or Rossi or Reid or JJ."

"But it wasn't. Come on Emily, spill it."

She took a breath but was interrupted by a third doctor walking into the waiting room. "Are any of you here for Agent Hotchner?"

Again, they all stood. Jack slid off Reid's lap and walked up to the doctor. "He's my Daddy."

Suppressing a smile at Jack's seriousness, so similar to Hotch's, Emily spoke up. "Who's listed as his emergency medical contact?"

The doctor checked the chart. "Emily Prentiss."

"That's me." She flashed her ID again. "It's okay to talk in front of them."

"Agent Hotchner suffered massive sharp force trauma to the abdomen. There was some internal bleeding that took awhile to stop, but we managed to do it. Two of his ribs are cracked but not broken. That's the worst of it."

"So he's going to be fine?" Rossi clarified.

The doctor smiled. "He's going to be fine. It'll take some time for him to get back on his feet, but he'll be good as new in a few months."

Emily let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "Can we see him?"

"He's in recovery, and he's still unconscious. You can see him after he wakes up." The doctor offered a parting nod and walked away.

The agents settled back down in their chairs to wait but were much less tense than before. Jack climbed into Emily's lap.

"Do you want to go home Jack?" she asked him quietly. She didn't really want to leave Hotch, but she'd do whatever Jack needed.

He shook his head. "I wanna see Daddy."

"Okay sweetie. We'll stay here. Why don't you close your eyes and get some sleep? I'll wake you up when we can see Daddy."

"Promise?"

Emily nodded. "I promise."

Satisfied, Jack nestled his head into the crook of her neck as Emily wrapped her arms around him and he was asleep within minutes. Everyone else quieted down so as not to wake him and soon they were all asleep as well. All except for Emily who, once again, was left alone with her own musings.

The team was roused by Hotch's doctor a few hours later when he gently shook Emily awake.

"Ms. Prentiss?" Her eyes flew open, as did everyone else's. "Agent Hotchner is awake. You can see him now. He's in room 917."

"Thank you." She shifted Jack so she was only holding him with one arm and shook the doctor's hand with the other. He nodded, smiled, and left. Emily rubbed Jack's back softly.

"Jack?" he stirred but didn't open his eyes. "Jack, do you want to see your dad?" she felt him nod against her collarbone so she headed for Hotch's room. She stopped when she realized no one was following her.

"Are you coming?"

"We'll give you guys a few minutes." Rossi told her.

Emily nodded and carried a sleepy Jack the rest of the way down the hall. With the stress of the past few days, she wasn't surprised that he could only manage to wake himself up halfway.

True to the doctor's word, Hotch was awake when she got to the room. She paused in the doorway and took in the sight of his battered and bruised self; he somehow managed to look both groggy and in charge at the same time.

Emily found herself at a loss as to what to say and wondered fleetingly if this was what Hotch had felt like when he'd seen her after Doyle. She walked hesitantly into the room and sat in a chair beside his bed. Jack had already fallen back asleep in her arms and when she went to wake him up Hotch shook his head.

"Let him sleep," he said softly.

Emily nodded. "He wouldn't let me take him home."

"That's okay. I'm glad he's here." It was true; Hotch was relieved at seeing his son safe and sound. And he looked very comfortable tucked away into Emily's arms.

"How are you?" Emily asked him.

"Fine." Short answers meant the opposite, she knew, but she wasn't sure now was the right time to press things.

"He's okay?" Hotch verified.

Emily nodded. "A few bruises, but nothing lasting." The emotional effects, she knew, would take longer to appear and longer to go away, but they didn't need to go into that now.

"How's Kayla?"

"She's okay. Her husband's with her." Emily hesitated before asking the question that was on her mind. "Hotch, what happened in there?"

Knowing he was going to have to talk about it sometime, and consciously knowing that Emily probably would have been his first choice to talk things over with anyway, he opened up and told the whole gruesome story. When he got to the part about hearing her and Dave in the house, her face fell.

"Hotch, I am so sorry."

He shook his head. "You had no way of knowing." The last thing they needed on this team was more guilt.

"I should have known." Emily said bitterly. "I should have seen something."

Hotch shook his head slowly. "It's not your fault, Emily." He offered her something that could have been called a smile before continuing with his recounting of everything that had happened. He talked without hesitation or discomfort until he got to the final few minutes of his captivity, when Gabe had torn Jack away from him.

"I thought I was going to die. I thought Jack was going to die." Hotch said softly. Almost unconsciously, Emily put her hand over his; he didn't react. He'd never been this open before and Emily knew that the vulnerability was hard for him.

"But you didn't," she told him firmly. "You're both fine."

"I know." He paused. "But it was close. I don't know what I would do if anything ever happened to him."

"Well, then it's a good thing he has you, Hotch." Emily told him. "If anyone can shield him from whatever the world throws at him, it's you."

Hotch withdrew his hand from under Emily's and reached over to put his hand on Jack's head.

"Do you want me to put him down?" Emily asked, indicating that she could lay him on the bed next to Hotch.

"No, he looks way too comfortable." Hotch smiled. "The doctors didn't give you any trouble, did they?"

Emily shook her head. "No. But they took me by surprise. You put me down as both of your medical contacts?"

"You're the logical choice," he told her. "Jack feels most comfortable with you. There's no one else I'd rather have looking after him."

"And you?" she asked softly.

"There's no one else I would want looking after me either," he admitted.

"You know anyone on the team would do it in a heartbeat," she told him bluntly.

He nodded. "Yes, they would," he said simply, and left her to draw her own conclusions from that. "If it makes you uncomfortable, I can have it changed." His eyes searched her face.

"No, it's fine," she said honestly. "I was just surprised."

He put his hand back on his bed next to Emily's. "Don't be. Jack loves you."

A few minutes had lapsed into a half hour before the team headed down to Hotch's room. They streamed in, offering smiles and gentle pats on the back or light shoulder squeezes. Jack, Rossi noted, was still asleep in Emily's arms or rather, arm. Her other hand was resting lightly on the hospital bed, not even an inch from Hotch's.

"You always have to do things the hard way." Morgan joked. "If you'd wanted to take down the Foyets for good, all you had to do was tell us man. We would have backed you up."

The banter continued from there and the hospital room was filled with laughter. Reid's stomach started growling so Garcia passed around the candy bars from her "secret Jack stash" as she called it. Chairs were pulled up and the conversation took on a life of its own as the night went on. The nurses either didn't have the heart or weren't brave enough to kick them out; visiting hours had ended a long time ago but the laughter still flowed.

This was, Hotch realized at one point, an essential part of the healing process. Having his team around him helped him regain his sense of security and his sense of balance. That they could laugh and joke with everything that they saw every day, the horrors they witnessed, reminded him that life would return to normal eventually.

As Reid prattled on with a chemistry pun that no one really understood but laughed at anyway, Hotch looked over at Emily. She had one hand over Jack's free ear to block out the noise but the other was still on his bed. He moved his fingertips ever so slightly so they were touching hers.

She looked down at him expectantly, thinking that he needed something but when she saw the calmness on his face she gave him a small smile. He returned it in kind and their eyes stayed locked for a few seconds before they both turned their focus back to the general conversation.


End file.
